


A Long Way Home

by SandfireKat



Category: The Good Doctor (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Buckle your seatbelts, Drama, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, In which Lea tests the waters of being an Uber driver, Just an overload of sweet friendship, Mild Language, No Romance, Road Trip, So sweet you're gonna get a cavity, emotional stress, tw child abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-15 08:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 50,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13027632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandfireKat/pseuds/SandfireKat
Summary: Requested by punkrockbangus: Could you write something to get us through January 8, if you're not busy? Pretty please? Something that picks up where the finale left off. Perhaps Lea catches Shaun just as he leaves, and she accompanies him to wherever he's going, which is his home town that we saw in the first episode. She drives him there and they end up staying a while just until things calm down. And karl-milkington: I’d love you see one maybe about what may happen in the upcoming episodes ?It wouldn't be the first time Lea had been there for him. It wouldn't be the last, either. Standing there in his apartment, and seeing how distressed he'd been, she couldn't possibly have abandoned him to leave on his own. She wouldn't dare let him think for a single moment that he was alone in this. She would be by him, come hell or high water, and they would weather this together. But it isn't as simple as that. It isn't as simple as running away. Problems are entities, and they follow you, no matter how fast you drive. And sometimes it might occur too late that the place you're running to, might not be much better than the place you're running from.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work is a result of requests made to me by punkrockbangus and karl-milkington on my tumblr blog thegooddoctorheacanons. If you like it, I'd love to hear your feedback, and I'd really appreciate you checking out of the other shorter snippets of writing I have on there! <3  
> This story is written before season one episode eleven. Given that it is a prediction of what's to come on January 8th, I was on a specific time crunch for these requests, so I hope those of you still waiting for chapter two of Should Haves understand! I curently have about four pages of that typed as well, and I am going to try my best to finish that alongside the second chapter of this story. Thank you all for your patience. Now that my semester is over, I will have more free time this month to write.  
> Please excuse any typos that may have slipped through. I always attempt to go through with a fine-toothed comb and I usually manage to catch most of them. However, if there are any glaring ones, and should anyone kindly point them out, I would love nothing more than fix them! Along with anything else that may be awry in here.  
> Thank you very much, and I hope you like this first chapter!

Dinner was annoying. Well— eating dinner wasn't annoying. Making it was. If she could just get the 'food' part without all the preparation and effort, then that would truly be the pinnacle of achievement. She would be living the high life, then, but at the moment, it was an unreachable fever dream. Unless she wanted to splurge on delivery, and her bank account wasn't exactly begging her to do that just now. No; ramen noodles was the way to go tonight, but it wasn't a way she was going with very much happiness. She was leaning against the kitchen counter, watching the pot of water on the stovetop with a bland expression. Behind her, the TV was flipped to a random gameshow she wasn't paying attention to. She'd thought it was Family Feud a minute ago, but now she was starting to suspect it was Cash Cab.

Whichever one it was, she knew that if she was a contestant, she'd lose.

Her eyes flickered to the clock, and she frowned a bit. It was a little later than normal; around this time, she was usually heading back from the gym, already having eaten something. She hadn't managed to make it today— work was more exhausting than usual, so she had allowed herself the opportunity to skip. Again. But the alternative wasn't really much better; she'd just sat around the house and stared at the wall, too lazy to even get up and turn on her game console. She'd tried to crack open a book, but she must have fallen asleep somewhere in there, because now it was late, and she didn't remember hours four through eight. But standing there, watching the water finally begin to start boiling, the thought occurred to her that she hadn't seen whether or not Shaun was home yet. The past couple of days, really, she hadn't seen him at all. Was that just because his schedule was all weird? His job tended to mess things up, so she wouldn't be surprised.

But if he was indeed home, and if she went over there to bug him, maybe her night would get the slightest bit more interesting.

No sooner did the idea cross her mind, did a sudden slamming noise cause her to jerk forward in alarm. It was abrupt and loud, and it was coming from Shaun's apartment. It sounded kind of like it did the night he'd been rooting through his house for his screwdriver; the walls were pretty thin— it was hard not hear when something was being thrown or knocked around. And that was what she could hear now. But it sounded different than it had before. As soon as she heard the first slam, she could hear another. She could make out restrained shouting, too. It sounded like there was a full-on fight breaking out next door.

Lea didn't waste a single second. She had no idea what was going on, but she immediately jerked out to shut off her burner. She abandoned her cooking, despite the fact that the water had finally begun to heat and bubble; her ramen noodles would still be just as crappy when she came back. She turned and took off in a run, bursting out of her apartment and rushing down the hall. His door was open completely wide—the first slam she'd heard must have been it hitting the wall and staying there. It was a red flag. Shaun never left the door open. He hardly even opened his door in the first place; usually she had to knock about twenty-five times before he managed it. She could hear his voice, drifting through the open doorway to her ears. The words were too soft to make out, but he was talking.

To who?

"Shaun?" Her forehead began to crease as worry clouded over her face. She was a little more hesitant to take the next few steps that would let her into his apartment. She knocked on the door as she invited herself in, but the point was pretty moot. Shaun didn't answer her; regardless, she walked inside to see that he was standing over by his bed. His head was ducked down low to his chest, and his nails were digging into his skull. He was breathing hard; she could hear his gasps even from where she stood.

"Shaun?" she repeated, only the tiniest bit louder this time. He still didn't look at her, but she could see a flinch shake his body. She frowned, and got herself to inch closer. But her steps were silent, and tentative. She wasn't sure what was happening. She didn't want to overstep her boundaries. But something was clearly wrong. What kind of friend would she be if she didn't try and see what it was? If she just left him like this? "Shaun, are you okay?" she asked. Walking nearer, she could see that his shoulders were shaking. He was mumbling something under his breath— talking to himself. Her face fell. "Shaun, you're scaring me," she breathed. "What's happening?"

"I just…wanted to make my own decisions..." She'd never heard his voice like this, before. He sounded choked and frazzled, and more than a little worked-up. He turned and he looked at her, and her heart jumped up to loge in her throat when she saw the tears that were gleaming bright in puffy red eyes. His cheeks were wet with them; it explained the hitching inhales, and the trembling shoulders. She was floored, in that moment. She'd never seen Shaun as anything but calm. Even when he'd knocked on her door to tell her that someone had gotten hurt because of a mistake he had made, he hadn't cried. His sadness had been conveyed in another way. It had been subtle, then, just like every other aspect of himself was. He was always subtle. Now his emotions seemed to be everywhere. It was practically taking up the entire room.

It terrified her, if she was being honest.

"Shaun, what's wrong?" she pressed, harder now. "What decisions? What's happening?"

He closed his eyes. "I just wanted to—…I shouldn't have done it…I had to run, I had to—…I made a mistake, I made a mistake." His voice broke straight in half on the last word. Lea's eyes were wide, and her stomach was twisting into knots the more he went on. None of what he was saying was making any sense whatsoever. "I didn't— I just wanted to make my own…he's not my father, he won't listen, he doesn't care, he only wants to make himself happy…" She had to strain to hear it all, he was talking so low and so fast. She edged another small step forward. "I made a mistake, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do!" The sudden yell made her flinch. "I said no…!"

She looked at him in alarm. "Shaun, you have to slow down and you have to tell me what you mean." He started to pace back and forth. Her impulse was to reach out and stop him, but she had enough wisdom about her to stay put. Though her arms itched to reach out. "Shaun, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on. Tell me why you're so upset." It was difficult to keep her voice level, but she was trying her best. He kept pacing, he kept mumbling. She jumped when his left hand moved, only to smack back down against his temple. The motion instantly made her start to intervene, but she stopped herself at the last second. She put sternness into her words instead— a silent attempt to demand his attention. "Shaun. Stop it. I want to help you."

"A mistake…a mistake, it was a mistake, I didn't know what to do…" His hands moved through his hair wildly, mussing it up in harsh movements. "Don't let anyone tell you what you— what you can and can't do I can't do this…"

Lea didn't know what to do. She'd never been good at the comfort department. So this was way out of her league. Shaun was up his knees in an emotional breakdown; he looked like a completely different person. He was crying, and shaking, and mumbling. "Shaun." She kept her voice gentle. Steady. If Shaun couldn't be the one in control right now, then she would have to take the role. "What mistake did you make? I'm sure it wasn't nearly as bad as you think it is. When I do something wrong, I always think it's the end of world, but Shaun, it's not! It's really not!" He wasn't listening. His eyes screwed shut tightly, and he shook his head fast. He was gouging into his skull; he was hurting himself. "Shaun, I want to help you!" she pressed. "Let me help—"

"I don't need help!" he screamed. It was yelled at the top of his lungs, so much so that it scraped against his throat on the way out. The screech snatched all of the air out of her, and Lea snapped her mouth shut at once. Shock was alive in every inch of her face. He didn't see it her reaction— the moment he screamed, he curled down into himself, tucking his arms back tightly to his body. Her friend was heaving for air, gasping and hyperventilating as he stayed hidden away. He was upset. He was more than upset; way more. Something awful had happened. He might as well have a neon light declaring the fact. She closed her eyes for three long seconds, forcing herself to take in a slow breath. If she started to lose it, then Shaun would be completely screwed.

She took to silence. She wanted nothing more than to grab him and force him to make sense, and to just spit out what was wrong, and it took every ounce of strength for her not to do just that. But she managed to keep herself mute, and in place. She could see that he was distressed, and that he was too…well, everywhere, to do anything about it. So she clamped her mouth shut, and she ducked her head down low. Lea gave him silence— she gave him time. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, and she just listened with a heavy heart to his soft mutters, unable to make out a majority of what he was saying. She forced herself to stay silent as he whispered and cringed and paced. She waited until his words were less frazzled, less on-edge, less all-at-once. Until he wasn't shaking so much; until he looked just the smallest bit calmer. It felt like forever, but eventually she tried to speak again.

"I know, Shaun," she murmured, hardly above a whisper. He cringed when she broke the quiet, but he didn't react any harsher than that. She hesitated, unsure of whether or not she should give him longer to calm down. When she went on, her voice was just as soft. "I know you don't need help. You're like…the most responsible person I've ever met in my life. You don't need any help at all to do anything." Shaun's hands were still digging into his head, and his breathing was still irregular. But at the change, he turned and he looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Just the other day, I tried to make grilled cheese." She kept her volume down. "But I was too lazy to actually get up and do the whole…butter on the pan thing and start the stove, right? So you wanna know what I did instead?"

Her friend looked away. But he didn't refuse her. "I had the brilliant idea to take my toaster and put it down on its side," she answered anyway. "I put the bread in so that the cheese wasn't touching the little…coily things, you know? And I just pushed them down and thought that I'd made the newest and best life hack in the world. And then guess what? In like, a minute and a half, the entire kitchen is filling up with smoke, and the whole place smelled like burnt cheese. I pop the bread pieces out, and they land smack-dab on the floor. Cheese-side down, of course, because why would it be anything different? I'm lucky I opened the door when I did, otherwise the fire alarm probably would have gone off and the entire building would have had me blacklisted as the girl that made them all evacuate because she was trying to make a sandwich."

He stayed mute. But she saw that his hands had shifted off of his head a bit. His nails were digging into the palms of his hands now, instead of his skull. She unwound with relief at the miniscule progress. "See? I'm like a million times as scatterbrained as you," she reasoned. "I know you don't need help; if any of us is the one that needs help, it's me. I'm a complete mess." She laughed, and Shaun didn't. "Look, Shaun; you don't need help, I know that. But you can want it…if someone is willing to give it to you." He cringed, and his breathing hitched again. She weakened. "I'm willing to help you, if you want me to. You don't have to let me, but I'm your friend. And I'm just worried. You look upset, and I don't want you to be upset. Whether it's about something at work, or something at home…if I can do something for you, I want to. It doesn't even have to be very big." She hesitated, but offered: "If you don't want me here, I'll leave. Without another word, I'll leave you alone. But if you do…?"

The silence that followed was crushing. She studied him, watching as his muscles gradually relaxed. He still refused to look away from the ground, and his eyes were still filled with unshed tears. Two steps forward, and one step back. "Do you want to tell me what's wrong, Shaun?" she whispered. He gave her a fleeting glance, and she offered him a smile in that brief window of time. She didn't say anything else— giving him space and time to consider it. Pushing and shoving at him wouldn't do much good for either of them, she didn't think. And eventually, he did bring himself to reply. His voice was scratchy and rough, but she was just relieved to have him responding.

"I hurt someone." Even more tears rushed down his cheeks. "I hurt someone, it was an accident," he breathed.

"Like…like what happened in the grocery store?" she asked.

He shook his head. "It was different," he choked out. "It was different. I was trying to explain— I was trying to tell him… He was making my decisions, he wouldn't let me talk." Lea frowned, tilting her head to the side. "I was— don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do, I didn't want to let him…tell me what I can and can't do. He wouldn't listen, he— he yelled, and he grabbed— and I—" His voice broke. He began to crumble. He wasn't agitated or angry anymore; instead, he was just overcome with sorrow. She wasn't sure she liked the transition. He wiped at his eyes, and Lea started to say something. But he was speaking before she got the chance. "I have to leave," he managed.

"Leave?" The word sent Lea's head reeling. Where would he go? Instantly, the thought of him running away was enough to cause her heart to freeze over. If he left, even if it was with a formulated plan, she wouldn't be able to not worry. She knew he was self-sufficient and more than capable of taking care of himself; that wasn't the problem at all. She'd worry if any one of her friends disappeared off the map without a trace. The past couple days alone, she'd been wondering where the heck Shaun had been when she hadn't seen him traipsing down the hall. She'd missed him, maybe, was the better word. If he left…

"Where are you going?" she asked. "How long will you be gone?" Shaun didn't answer her. He turned and jerked to the side, reaching out and grabbing a photo that was on his dresser. She had to stumble backwards to avoid getting knocked out of the way. He looked down at the picture, something in his expression seeming to break even more when he did. She looked from him to the frame. She tried to press a little more. "Where do you want to go, Shaun?"

His answer was only one word long, and it was splintered into pieces. "Home."

"Home?" It struck her then that she didn't even know where his 'home' was. "Where's that?"

He didn't look away from the picture. "Casper. Wyoming."

"Wyoming…" That was quite a ways away. "Are you going to…take a plane? Does your flight leave soon?" He shifted, saying nothing. "Is your family in Wyoming? Your…parents?" He's never said a single word about any relatives of his to her. It never came up in conversation. But something about the way he reacted to the questions made her concerned as to what the answers would be. "Do you have…a hotel in mind? Was this planned?"

She already knew the answer, but she asked anyway. Shaun's silence just confirmed her suspicion. Her heart sank. He looked completely miserable. He was still crying, albeit silently, and his grip on the photo was tighter than normal. She followed his gaze and frowned. She'd never seen that picture before. Or, she'd known it was there, but she'd never actually studied it. Now that she actually was, her expression changed to be a cross between happiness and bemusement. It was Shaun…she was positive. He was much younger in the snapshot, but there was no mistaking the small barely-there smile, and the hair that was brushed to the side. He was even holding that little scalpel she'd seen him with a couple of times. But that was the only part of the picture she knew. The rest of it was beyond her.

There was a boy sitting beside Shaun that she had never seen before— or at least, she'd never seen anyone that might have looked like that when they were younger. It looked like they were in a bus. An altered one; most of the seats seemed to be ripped out of it, and there was a mattress in the far corner of the picture with a sleeping bag on top of it. The windows had drapes and towels over them to block out the light. There was clutter everywhere. A flash of recognition sparked in the back of her eyes, and she turned to look around Shaun, to the small couch that was adjacent to his bed. Or at least, what she'd considered a couch before this very moment.

She looked back at the photo. It was the same. It was the thing that the other little boy was sitting on. It wasn't a couch like she'd thought; it was a bus seat. From this same exact spot. She frowned, trying to connect the dots. But it didn't really line up. There seemed to be a lot of significance around this, especially going off of the way he was looking at it. She started to ask him if he could explain, when he mumbled under his breath. "I don't know…" At least he was coming down from it all now. His breathing was beginning to regulate. Now, he just looked tired.

Lea looked behind her, to the TV that was there. She made a face. "Maybe you shouldn't have splurged for the TV, Shaun," she whispered. "Maybe you'd have more money to spend on a plane ticket."

He didn't agree, but he didn't argue either.

Lea paused. She took out her phone and she checked the time. Closing one eye in a wince, she looked at her friend a little carefully. There was a long moment in which she debated and agonized. But eventually it ended up just bursting out anyway. "Shaun…would you maybe…like a ride? To Wyoming?" The question was hardly audible, it was so hesitant and soft. But he looked up at once. He seemed confused at the offer. She didn't blame him; she was kind of confused, herself. The idea just fell out of her mouth. But the last time Shaun had gotten lost – the last time he had been in a bad situation – she had been there for him, to pick him up off the side of the road. She had been the one in the driver's seat, taking him to where he'd needed to be.

Somehow, she felt compelled to be there the second time over.

When she spoke again, she was surer. "Let me take you to Wyoming, Shaun," she requested.

Her friend blinked, too stunned to say anything. She looked back down at her phone and opened up Maps. He just watched her. Biting on the inside of her lips, Lea typed out the name he'd said before, hoping it was spelled the way she thought it was. Sure enough, a route popped up, stretching wide across highways and state lines. In the silence of the apartment, a robotic voice sang out to declare: "Let's go! Head northeast on East Santa Clara Street towards North Sixth Street!" Shaun still just blanked, almost like he was unable to believe what she was offering.

She'd be in the same boat, though. She didn't know what she would do for work. She had taken tomorrow off already— her schedule just happened to have such good graces. But after that? She had nothing. Nothing but the hope that maybe someone could cover for her and not completely hate her for it. She didn't even have anything together, and she was pretty sure her tank was on empty, too. But none of that mattered. All she was paying mind to was Shaun, and his distraught state. At the fact that now, the clouds were beginning to clear, and he was starting to brighten. It was obvious that whatever had happened – and she still wasn't exactly sure yet – had been horrible. Enough to push him to run away. She couldn't let him do that. Not on his own. He looked and sounded so alone. But he didn't have to be.

She wanted to help him. And if that meant taking him three states away…she would.

She showed him her phone screen. "Welp. This thing says it'll take approximately seventeen hours and nine minutes to get there by car," she commented, simply, as if she was talking about the weather, and not some sudden last-minute escape plan. Shaun looked back at the photo he held in his hands. "I don't know about you, but I think if you wanna get down there anytime soon…we should leave now. Because I gotta stop a gas station. And get like four five hour energies."

He looked back over to her, his reddened eyes clashing with her own.

She offered him a smile.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

'She said: "Where'd you wanna go? How much you wanna risk? I'm not looking for somebody with some superhuman gifts. Some superhero. Some fairytale bliss. Just something I can turn to. Somebody I can kiss. I want something just like this."' The radio was turned down low, so that it could barely be heard in the first place. Lea figured that Shaun would have rather had it turned off entirely. But if there wasn't something for her to focus on, she would be asleep faster than she could blink. She needed the tiniest bit of distraction, so she would settle for a quiet one. They'd reached a happy medium this way.

She wouldn't need the radio if she could distract herself by talking to Shaun. But ever since they'd gotten in the car and started away, he'd been silent. He'd either stared out the window, or he'd stared at his lap. He wasn't hyperventilating anymore, and he wasn't crying. Or mumbling, or hitting himself. He was just staring. She noticed that once they'd gotten together as much as they could pack, and once they'd pulled out of the lot of their apartment building, he had begun to relax more and more. Now, hours later, and miles upon miles between them and whatever had caused the rift in the first place, he looked like his regular self. At least on the outside. His silence served to show that on the inside, he was still upset. It was glaringly obvious, but Lea wasn't going to poke at him.

They'd left around nine; maybe a little bit after, she wasn't sure. Now, it was just rounding that wonderful time of two in the goddamn morning. There was absolutely not a single other soul on the highway save for them, which was just as good, because at any point Lea was at risk of falling asleep and swerving right into either of the lanes around her. She didn't want to stop, because she knew that when they got to Wyoming, unless Shaun had family or friends there that could hook them up, which she didn't think he did, they were going to have to pay for a hotel there. She wasn't absolutely broke, but it stood to reason that she had been preparing a dinner of ramen noodles before Shaun had initiated this whole road trip fiasco. So she would like to save as much money as possible.

But that wasn't the main reason she was still driving, despite the hour. After she'd realized that Shaun grew less and less tense the more they drove, and that the problem was rooted back in San Jose, she vowed to make the drive in one straight shot. She'd already taken one five hour energy and it had gotten her this far. It was getting about that time to crack open another. She sighed and reached up to rub at her eyes, trying her best to stifle about her fiftieth yawn. Once you hit four in the morning, your body started to accept the inevitable and wake back up again; or at least, that's how it had worked for her in high school. She'd hit her second wind soon enough and it would be fine. What was really making her surprised was that Shaun hadn't fallen asleep yet. If she had been in the passenger's seat, she'd be out like a light in two seconds flat.

At the thought, her eyes flickered over to him. He was sitting like he'd been ever since he'd shut the door behind him. He was leaning to the side, resting against the glass of the window. His head was lowered, and his eyes were trained on the small scalpel that was clasped in both hands. The same little thing she'd seen him holding in the photo in his living room. Every so often his thumb would trace up and down its side, and she figured it was something for comfort. She'd had a friend in high school that would touch her necklace the same exact way whenever she got nervous. Time and time again, in the silence of the car, Lea had been tempted to ask him about it. Or about the boy he'd been with in the picture, and who he was. But neither of those questions were needed right now. There were more pressing ones to ask, like why they were even doing this in the first place. But that would need some time.

She settled for an easier one.

"Do you…want to maybe stop somewhere to eat soon?" she asked. Right now, they were pretty much in the middle of nowhere; but this was America, and in America, if there was nothing around you, the rule was that if you kept driving a little while more, you'd eventually run into some kind of fast food place. At the very least, anyway. Denny's and McDonald's tended to multiply by mitosis. "I don't know if you had dinner or anything before you left work."

He didn't look at her. She thought he'd say nothing. But eventually he gave a small: "I didn't."

"Oh! Well, then…you wanna stop soon?" she prompted. "You're probably starving if you haven't eaten since lunch. And there are plenty of places that are open twenty-four hours around highways. We could get some really early breakfast somewhere. Pancakes? …You think IHop has apples?" She was trying her best to get him to at least crack a smile. Sorrow and misery had been radiating off of him this entire ride, like he was a tiny sun. A tiny, depressing sun. It didn't fit him; not at all. It was distressing to see.

But he didn't smile. Or even register the tease. "I'm not hungry," he mumbled. He pulled the scalpel just the smallest bit closer to himself.

Lea nodded. She looked back at the road, and kept her eyes there. After a moment she broke the silence again. Softly, in more of a whisper, she asked: "Do you want to talk about it, Shaun?"

"No."

"…Okay."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"And I don't know. To cut a long story short, the officer slam-dunked the kid into the trash can like he was a basketball, and he dragged him out of the school. Nobody was surprised, and after that, the cheerleaders weren't allowed to wear skirts anymore," Lea concluded. Shaun was staring at her in faint unease and confusion, but she just leaned over and poured herself another cup of coffee. Once she did, she proceeded to dump about three packets of sugar into it. Sue her— they'd hit the eight hour mark in driving. It was five in the morning and she was sitting in a diner she'd never been to before, which was completely empty save for them, and she was eating a waffle. She was warranted sugar, even if said amount of sugar put her at risk for diabetes. At this point, bring it on.

"My high school was interesting. To say the least," she rambled, knowing by now that Shaun wasn't talking. He was never a chatterbox to begin with, so the extra silence was even more noticeable. But she'd been told before that she was a gifted conversationalist when it came to just talking into someone's ear. She drank a sip of her coffee and tried not to notice how it was almost semi-solid, thanks to how much sweetener she'd dumped in. She'd regret it later. At the moment, she could practically feel the energy start to course through her veins. Or maybe that was just an oncoming heart attack. She'd accept either. "This one time, a kid was caught with this tiny little Ziploc bag of marijuana, right? They caught him red-handed, he was just holding it in gym class; he was so stupid. Anyway, instead of fessing up to the police officer, he just straight up kicked him in the shin. And he turns and runs back into the locker room and tries to flush it down the toilet. Like that would help him in any way at all, right?"

Shaun didn't have a rebuttal, but to be fair, he probably wouldn't have had one anyway, even under normal circumstances. He looked down at his plate of pancakes— he hadn't touched them yet. He hadn't even poured any syrup. His stare was heavy and weighted, and Lea noticed the significant strain that seemed to be laying on his shoulders. Like he was holding up something that was threatening to crush him. Her smile fractured, and she looked down at her own plate with a tiny sigh. She was running out of things to say. She was running out of ways to make it seem like she wasn't severely worried about Shaun, and what in the world they were doing, out here. In the ghost town of a diner, she finally let the silence eat up the space in between them.

However, once she did, she became aware of the tiniest of noises. It had gone right over her head, before— or the better phrasing was that she had talked right over it. But now she could hear it. A tiny rumbling noise, and she looked up at Shaun in confusion. But there wasn't any mistaking what it was, and there wasn't any mistaking where it was coming from. "Hey, is your phone ringing?" she asked. He looked up, in what suspiciously seemed like alarm. "Or is that mine?" There certainly wasn't anyone else around them to be the culprit. She turned and reached back to pull out her device; she wasn't surprised at all to see that it was still off.

Shaun just stared at her. His pocket kept vibrating, and he didn't make a move for it.

She frowned. Eyed him a little carefully. "You're…not going to answer?" she prompted.

He hesitated. He was looking at her strangely, in a way that she couldn't quite discern. After some pause, his reply came in the form of a single word. Reluctant and unsure. "No." He was tense even after the answer came, for some reason.

He was looking at her like he expected her to get angry, or snap at him to do it anyway.

But she just frowned and nodded her head, pushing out her lower lip in a bit of thought. She shrugged her shoulders. "Okay." She was more than aware of the surprise that flickered over his expression. She added it to the other puzzle pieces she had scattered all around her. Right about now, it was like a tornado had blown over her picture, and she was left to just try and figure out what the heck this stupid thing was supposed to look like. At five in the morning. On the border between California and Nevada. His phone was still ringing; or maybe he was just getting another call. All the same, she turned and started to scoot out of her seat. "Well, if you're going off the grid, Shaun, might I recommend the 'Do not Disturb' setting? It'll stop all that stupid ringing." He looked down at his pocket, seeming confused at how easy it had been. But she was already heading away from their booth. "I'll be right back, okay?"

She didn't wait for him to say anything back; by this point, she was almost sure it wasn't even going to happen. Keeping her phone in her hand, she looked down and sighed as she scrolled through her most recent calls. Landing on a name, she clicked their information before bringing the device to her ear. She kept walking away as she listened to it ring, hopefully wanting to get out of Shaun's range of hearing. If they even answered— it was pretty early. If Lea was home right now, she would have been sleeping in for at least another hour. So she relaxed in relief when the other line was picked up.

"What in the world could you possibly want?" the voice growled, practically through gritted teeth.

"Good morning, Candice," Lea drawled. "How are you doing?"

"Lea, you better hope I never see you again for the rest of my life because if I do, I'm punching you right in the throat," her friend groaned. "It's five in the morning, what do you want?"

She exhaled. She looked back across the diner to where Shaun was still sitting. He'd reverted back to just staring at his plate again, still refusing to touch it. Her voice lost its sense of cheer, and she looked back down at the ground. "Candice, I really need your help." Something about the way she said this must have told her friend that it wasn't a joke, because she didn't interrupt. She winced and ran a hand up through her hair. "I um…I had to leave really last minute, there's a…situation I'm trying to handle, I was going to ask if you could cover for me at work for a little bit."

"Cover for you?" Candice repeated. It didn't take Sherlock Holmes to hear how put-off she was at the mere thought. "For how long? What are you doing?"

Lea looked to Shaun again, doubtfully. Somehow, the thought of spilling the entire truth didn't sit right with her. To be frank, even she didn't know the entire truth. Telling what she knew – which was just that Shaun had wanted to leave San Jose as if the entire city had been on fire, and she had offered to take him without knowing a single thing else, and now they were almost out of the state and she still had no idea why – might not be the best option. It might not paint her in the best light. But mostly, looking at Shaun and how run-down he seemed, Lea felt the distinct pull that she shouldn't mention him. Not yet. The word fumbled out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Funeral."

"Funeral?" her friend echoed. "Oh…I'm so sorry…who died?"

Crap. Let's see…who should she kill off? "My aunt," she said. "Car accident, it was…it was really sudden. We weren't expecting it. I'm, uh…going to my family, I want to be with them. I haven't had the chance to call anyone else about it yet. I just wanted to make sure my shifts were covered…I left…in kind of a rush. The funeral isn't…for a couple of days." That might give her enough time, right?

"Don't even worry about it," the reassurance came. She felt a little guilty at the concern that was in her friend's voice now. But she told herself it was necessary. "I can cover everything for you. And here— I'll tell them about your aunt so you don't have to worry about it." She winced a bit at this. "I'm sure they won't hold it against you at all. Aw, hon, I'm sorry." Lea smiled. Even though she was lying through her teeth, it was a nice thing to remember how sweet a friend Candice was. When she wasn't threatening physical assault. "Don't worry about a thing. Tell your family I said I'm sorry. And if you need anyone to talk to, you can call me again. At a more reasonable time, preferably."

"Thanks, Candice," she gushed. "I'll talk to you later."

There was a click on the other line, to signal the call had come to an end. Lea lowered the device and started to go back to the table, when she stopped short, a new notification catching her eye. Well— not a new one. But she hadn't been able to check it before, considering she'd been driving for ages. It had slipped her mind to look again when they stopped. Now, the small red bubble over her Twitter app caught her attention, and she opened it. It was a message from her friend Jackson— she'd just hung out with him the other day. He'd sent her a post, apparently. She noted this as a little unusual, and with a bit of a frown, but she checked it anyway. Going off of the fact it was from Jackson, it was probably just some random meme he thought was funnier than it actually was. Usually he just screenshotted it, though, and texted it to her.

But it took about half a second to realize it wasn't some gag or funny cat video. In fact, it was something so different, that her mind went blank with shock. Her forehead creased over; alarm leaked into her expression, and she quickly looked back up to where Shaun was still sitting. It was a post from the San Jose Police Department official account. The post was short and to the point. Almost startlingly brief. But still, she was hardly able to digest the meaning that was behind the few sparse words.

'The San Jose Police Department is asking for the public's assistance to locate a twenty-five year old missing person.'

There was a link underneath. Her chest was already tight, but she forced herself to click it. After a small lag of buffering that lasted far too long, her eyes widened even more at the page it took her to. It listed the date and the case number. It had Shaun's first and last name at the top, and when she scrolled down, it had his picture right underneath. Lea started to feel sick, and the nausea wasn't helped at all as she began to read the fine print. 'The San Jose Police Department is asking for the public's assistance to locate Shaun Murphy, a 25-year-old surgical resident at St. Bonaventure Hospital. He was last seen on December 4th at 8:34 pm, leaving the hospital in an impaired mental state of panic and anger.

'Shaun is 5' 10'' tall, and weighs 150 lbs. He is diagnosed with autism, and suspected to be a danger to himself or others. His whereabouts and current mental state are unknown. Friends have expressed concern for his safety, and have requested additional help in locating him. He has brown hair and blue eyes. He was last seen wearing a light blue shirt and a dark blue jacket, with dark pants and brown shoes. Anyone with information is urged to call "911" or the San Jose Police Department at 408-277-8900.'

That was it. Standing there, staring at the report, Lea momentarily forgot how to breathe. She forgot how to do anything but look blankly at her phone screen, struggling to understand what this was and what it meant. 'Distressed mental state'…'danger to himself or others'. She remembered a fragment of what Shan had been able to spit out earlier, in his apartment. "I hurt someone." What had happened? What had he done? Why was he being reported to the police? She understood that he'd wanted to leave on a whim, but she hadn't anticipated someone reacting harshly enough to contact emergency servces. And for the police to so readily advertise the situation. She guessed that Shaun was a little bit different than most people when it came to things like this…but…

When she was finally able to look away from her screen, she just looked back over to Shaun. He had remained a statue.

She stayed where she was, her face blank with confusion. She didn't move, or go back to him.

She didn't do anything.

Suddenly, she had no idea what she was doing at all.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

They were out of California, leaving it farther and farther behind them. By now, they were heading through Nevada, and shooting straight for Utah. They'd left the diner about an hour ago. The hour had been passed in complete silence. Lea hadn't even turned on the radio. She didn't need a distraction to keep up, anymore; now the distraction was sitting in the passenger seat beside her, mute. She was losing her mind. She had too many questions at once to consider, and her worry and anxiety mounted with each passing minute. She was the most awake she'd been this entire drive, with that Twitter post playing over and over through her head.

Why had he been reported missing? A 'danger'? To himself and others? He'd been distraught when she'd come into his apartment – she still didn't know what from – but he had calmed down quickly, once she'd given him the space to! Ever since then, he'd just been sad and quiet. He'd probably said a total of ten words this entire trip, if that! Her eyes flickered over to him, to see that he was still holding onto his scalpel; still looking down at it like it was the only thing in the entire world. She closed her eyes briefly and looked back front, to the road that was stretching in front of them. "Shaun," she broached, after one more inner debate over whether or not to speak. To push. But at this point, she had to. "Can you tell me why we're going to Wyoming, now?" she asked, the question weird to even say. "Can you tell me why you were upset, in your apartment?"

He glanced at her. His expression was strained.

She continued after a beat of silence. She kept her eyes forward— maybe it would help. "Look, I understand that things happen. Things that…suck, and maybe even things we're not sure how to explain ourselves, because it happens all in a rush. But…I'm worried for you. I can see that you're upset, and I don't want you to be upset, you know? You're Shaun— you're supposed to be the one slapping me upside the head when I'm acting dumb." This was said only half-jokingly. "I offered to take you to Wyoming because I wanted to, not because I felt like I had to. But…I would really like to know…why we've been driving for the past nine hours."

Christ, they still had like eight more to go. She was going to die.

Shaun's stare was now layered in doubt.

She glanced at him, but only quickly, before she turned back. "They're looking for you, apparently. You've been reported missing," she said, more than a little blunt. She was taking a page from Shaun's book, in this respect. But she purposefully didn't turn, so she wasn't able see his reaction to the news. "I'm just asking for you tell me what really happened. So I know." There was still nothing. It wasn't exactly keeping her reassured. "Shaun…when you told me you hurt someone…what did that mean? What happened?" Surely the warning the police implicated wasn't founded? She couldn't see him hurting a single soul. He was the type of person who caught spiders and carried them back outside. She knew from experience, after she dragged him into her apartment to deal with one.

"What if I tell you…and you don't like it?" Shaun asked eventually. "What if I tell you and you see me differently?"

The question sent a surprisingly strong rush of sorrow through her. "Shaun, I could never see you any differently. At all. You're my friend, and I trust you. If I didn't, I sure as heck wouldn't be driving you all this way, would I?" She flashed him a comforting smile. "You don't have to worry about me, Shaun. I'm just trying to worry about you, and I can't really do that until I know what's got you down, you know?"

"Why didn't you say anything else about my phone in the diner?" he asked, instead of answering. She frowned. "When you asked if I was going to answer any of the calls. Why didn't…you say that I should?"

"Why didn't…?" She was confused, and found herself laughing a little bit. "I mean, I just asked if you were going to answer any of them. You said no, so…" She checked her mirrors and changed lanes. She glanced at her app to make sure she had the right exit in mind. "What else could I have done? Taken it out myself and answer it for you? It's your phone, you can do whatever the heck you want with it. I ignore people all the time it's no big deal." At this, however, her smile wilted. "Are they…calls from your friends?" she asked. "Wondering where you are?"

Shaun didn't lift his eyes. He was silent for what felt like forever. Lea was starting to debate just dropping it all over again and switching the radio back on in defeat, but the moment she was starting to make up the resolve, Shaun was speaking. Not to answer her newest question, but the question she'd proposed first. "I said no. Before." She frowned, but didn't interrupt. "I…told Doctor Glassman I didn't want a therapist. I told him no. He didn't listen. He said he was going to drive me back home so I would meet with her, but I didn't want to." As she listened, she took it upon herself to connect some of the extra puzzle pieces. Was that why he hadn't been home even before all this mess? Had he been avoiding a therapist? "He wouldn't listen to me. I got upset."

"Well…why did he want you to have a therapist?" she asked.

"He thinks I can't take care of myself," Shaun murmured. His expression flickered in something close to pain, and he added a little softer: "He gave up on me."

Lea's heart tore. Now she could understand why he'd been falling apart at the seams. She didn't know everything about the relationships he had with other people, including Doctor Glassman. She knew he got along with his coworkers, and she did know a tiny bit about Glassman and all that he had done for him to get his job. She guessed from that alone that there had to be something more there. More than just a boss-worker relationship. Something that could be shattered with this new development, and something strong enough to conjure the sorrow that was written over her friend's face.

There were a number of things she could say in response to the information. Some of them containing a couple choice words for whoever this 'Doctor Glassman' thought he was. But if she did that, it could just make it all worse. "I'm so sorry, Shaun," she offered instead, her words deflated and heartfelt. "I can't imagine how that must feel…what happened, then? When you tried to tell him no?"

"He told me he was finished talking about it. He wouldn't let me speak. He grabbed me…and I hit him." His voice was choked again. Her expression deepened with even more pain. "It was an accident. I didn't…"

"I get it," Lea reassured. She'd known that the warning couldn't be right. Shaun would never hurt anybody. But now the problem was this: people were going to read that statement about him, and they would believe it without hesitation. They didn't know him like she did. That was the part that was troubling her the most, really. They had left California behind them a long time ago, and even if they were found, it wasn't like the police could drag Shaun all the way back. He was an adult, not a child. He could disappear if he wanted. She knew a fraction of why he'd wanted to, now. But still, something wasn't sitting right. "What about your other friends?" she asked. "Your boss? Couldn't they have backed you up?"

Shaun wilted. "They don't respect me," said, his voice dull. "Doctor Melendez will be glad I left. He likes Jared and Claire more than me. He listens to them." She wilted even more, though she couldn't ignore the small sting of anger at the mental picture this statement painted. "Claire and Jared won't mind. They'll be that much closer to being starters." Lea didn't quite know exactly what he meant by this part, but she could probably fill in the blanks. "It's okay. Nobody will miss me."

"When you say it like that, it makes it seem like you're never going to go back." She tried to make it seem like she was only teasing, but the worry that was underneath each word made it impossible.

Shaun was silent.

Lea hated what that silence said.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

It was around hour eleven when Lea drew the line. She'd given him time, and she'd given him space. She'd given Shaun privacy and time to mourn and to feel sorry for himself. But you could only stew in that pot for so long, and right about now was the tipping point. Tipping point being the moment where Lea would grab the pot and shove it over to get him out, whether he liked it or not. "Okay!" she all but yelled. Shaun jerked in alarm at the sudden cry that came straight out of the blue. She wasn't going to apologize, though— it would wake him up. He should be thanking her. "Shaun Murphy! Going forward on this magnificent road trip, which I do not regret in the slightest, there are going to be ground rules!"

Shaun eyed her warily.

"We are going to have fun," she stated with purpose. "Okay? We're going to have so much fun, because if anyone in the world deserves to have a ton of fun right now, Shaun, it's you. We left San Jose, we left Doctor Glassman, we left your doctor team or squad or whatever you call it— we left all of it! And all of it's going to stay behind us! You're in dire need of a vacation, and that's what this is going to be. Does that sound cool?" Shaun didn't agree, verbally or physically. She glanced away from the road to him, her gaze imploring. She was more solemn with her next words. "You're upset, and you have every single right on this planet to be, Shaun. I'm not saying you can't be upset. No matter what you feel – no matter what time it is or what the circumstances are – your feelings matter, and what you have to say matters, too."

She made a bit of a face. "But at some point, you've gotta pick yourself up and dust yourself off some. And that's what this is. That's what this whole…thing is." She gestured vaguely around them to the car that they'd been sitting in long enough for them to probably have watched the entirety of The Titanic three and a half times over. She didn't even think she'd had enough patience before to sit through the whole of it once. "So we're going to leave it all behind us. Okay? We're going to relax, and we're going to try and have fun. Nothing else matters right now. You've got to try and get everything out of your head, otherwise it's like we never left. This is going to make you feel better. I promise. You just have to start letting it a little bit more."

Shaun continued to just stare at her, but there was something about the subtle shift in his expression that seemed more familiar. It was the smallest brighten, and she would accept it as progress.

She shot him a grin, and leaned over to turn the radio back on. She kept the volume down – if she had it as loud as she usually did while she drove, Shaun would probably tuck and roll – but switched the stations around until she landed on one that would help keep the mood more up. She snickered a little bit under her breath at the overly-cheery tune waiting to greet them. '— jingling, ring-ting-tingling, too! C'mon it's—' She leaned over and gently pushed at his arm, completing the lyric herself as she sang out, just a little bit off-key. "Lovely weather for a sleigh ride together, with you!"

Shaun looked down at his arm, a little more thoughtful. He looked back at her and stated: "You're a horrible singer."

Instantly, she was warmed with relief. He was talking. He was being an asshat, but he was talking. And maybe he'd start to separate himself from the troubles weighing him down. She mimicked anger at the feedback and shook her head, wrinkling up her nose. "You're the worst person I've ever known in my entire life, Shaun Murphy," she chirped. "I go out of my way, out of the goodness of my heart, to drive you seventeen hours and nine minutes to the glorious state of Wyoming, and this how I'm repaid!" She clicked her tongue and shook her head. "Horrible. So let's see…I stink, my music is too loud, I look absurd in sweaters, and now I suck at singing. Here— why don't you just start making a list of things you do approve of about me? Because I think that'd be a much shorter one, so it'd be easier for you to keep track of." She winked at him, to show that she didn't mean any harm.

Shaun looked back front, out the windshield. The landscape around them had changed drastically; now they were starting to get into the mountainous surroundings. It was prettier, and a lot more interesting to look at than just the mostly-flat road that had been in California, so Lea was grateful. But it also meant that they were getting farther away. A good and a bad thing. It depended on the way you wanted to look at it. However, the way that Shaun was looking at it was more than clear. "Thank you. Lea," he said softly after a heartbeat. She glanced at him, her expression soft. "For driving me. And…for being my friend."

She smiled, feeling a warm rush of affection. "Of course, Shaun," she replied. "It's no problem at all."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

It figures that they were so close, and she had to stop for gas. But all the same, they had to stop to eat, too. At hour fourteen, just a measly three or some odd hours left to go in their trip, Lea had pulled over to an Applebee's. It wasn't the worst place to go for lunch, and there was a gas station just a ways down from it that they could pop into once they were done there. They hadn't yet entered the state of Wyoming yet, but they were pretty darn close. Going by the temperature, they might as well have already been there, though. She was absolutely freezing. There was snow on the ground, for Christ's sake! The instant she'd stepped out of the car, her teeth had been chattering, and she was more than grateful now for the fact that this Applebee's felt like an oven.

Shaun, far more used to the colder temperature than she was, had looked at her strangely when they'd been walking into the restaurant. He'd taken off his jacket and hung it neatly on the chair beside him, and had said something about Lea not thinking ahead enough to pack a thicker coat. She wasn't listening to him, then— the sound of smugness tended to cause her to tune out. But now, after they had ordered their food and were just waiting for it to be brought out to them, the pair was talking normally again. Ever since Lea had said something outright about the situation, Shaun had been trying to take her advice to heart. He was a lot more like his normal self, now, much to Lea's delight.

"So, Shaun, how do you rate my driving? You've certainly had enough time to judge," she mused, after finishing off her second Mountain Dew since they'd sat down. She hated the taste of it— it was like she was drinking straight battery acid. But by now, she was practically dead on her feet. It helped that Shaun was talking again, and they could hold a conversation in the car to keep her mind active. But she needed this caffeine to get through the final lap.

To her surprise, what came back wasn't insulting at all. "You're a very good driver," Shaun hummed.

"Really!?" She was ecstatic at the rare praise. "No way! What an honor. I should put that on my resume: Shaun Murphy thinks I'm a good driver. Or scrapbook this moment, because the next time you compliment me is going to be when Mercury is back in retrograde," she snickered.

"That means my next compliment will be between March 23rd and April 5th," he announced. He picked up his water to take a drink of it. "Mark your calendar," he chirped, causing Lea to snort in a rather obnoxious burst of laughter. He beamed at the success, his sorrow forgotten entirely in the moment at hand. Which was all that Lea had been trying to accomplish ever since they'd left their apartment complex.

They chattered on again, this time Shaun actually putting forward his own contributions to the conversation, rather than just sitting across from her and staring glumly. They talked over their wait, and they talked over lunch, about mostly anything. She was careful to note that Shaun didn't say a single thing about work, and she took the hint not to let it stray in that direction. It was more general. Hobbies, and TV, and Christmas traditions. She'd asked Shaun about his efforts to get that cat into his house, and he'd lamented on his disappointment that he wasn't managing it at all. He actually ate his food this time, instead of just picking at it or hoping it would disappear on its own.

After they were through eating, Shaun excused himself to the bathroom before they left again. He had insisted that he pay for their meal, considering Lea had paid for gas up until now. She wasn't really about to fight him for the responsibility, but it left her with nothing to do in his absence. She fiddled with her empty straw wrapper for a while, but, after a moment's realization of what was happening, her eyes flashed as they flickered over to the seat beside Shaun's. His jacket was still there, like he'd left it. She hesitated and glanced over her shoulder to where the bathroom was, in the far corner of the restaurant.

He was still in there; how long would he be, though?

She bit down on her lip, but resolved to lean over the table and rifle through the pocket that been ringing back at the twenty-four-hour diner. A scene that seemed so long ago, now. Sure enough, she sagged with relief when her fingers closed over his phone, and she pulled it out quickly, sitting back in her seat. She felt bad snatching it like this, and she kept a fervent glance out every now and then over her shoulder, to make sure he wasn't coming. But this was important, so she turned it on anyway.

At once, her eyes widened at the sheer number of calls that reflected back to her. He'd muted it per her suggestion. Apparently it was a good thing he did. Missed calls upon missed calls were staring at her, along with about fifty million texts. Her eyes widening and her expression falling, she started to scroll through some of it. Most of the missed calls were from Glassman— seventeen of them. There was a call from Claire. Two from Jared. Someone named Doctor Andrews. The texts were all similar. From Claire: 'Hey Shaun, what's up?' 'Shaun where are you?' 'When are you coming into work?' 'Tell me when you're coming into work.' 'Shaun, please answer me.' 'Let me talk to you.' From Jared: 'I got fired.' 'Shaun?' 'I heard what happened, are you alright?' 'You never take this long to answer.' 'Shaun?' Doctor Andrews had only sent one, at nine this morning: 'Shaun, we have a lot to talk about, but please come into work. We can sort through this. I told you before, my door is always open if you need someone to talk to: don't feel like you have nowhere to turn.'

There were three texts from Doctor Melendez: 'Shaun, I don't know all of what happened, but you need to answer your phone, now. We have no idea where you are.' 'I should have listened to you, and I'm sorry; I do respect you, and right now I'm telling you that I need you back at work.' 'Doctor Glassman is worried. Everyone is. Nobody is angry, just tell us where you went.' Most of the texts, though, were from Glassman, just like most of the calls were. She couldn't read them all; it turned her stomach too much. 'Shaun, I am so sorry, please just let me talk to you.' 'Shaun tell me where you are.' 'I didn't mean to do this. This wasn't what I wanted at all. Please answer your phone.' 'Shaun, please.' 'I messed up. This is all my fault, don't blame yourself.' 'Shaun, please answer me. You don't have to talk to me, I just want to know that you're okay.' 'Shaun?' Even as she was reading the notifications, another popped up, and she scrolled back to see that he'd just sent another one. 'Shaun please don't do this.'

She closed her eyes briefly, trying to see what she could do. Again, she couldn't shake the feeling that this was a huge mistake. That she was in the wrong for doing this. Shaun had told her his side, and she wasn't about to suddenly flip and tell him he was out of line in running away. She wouldn't change her mind about that at all— he had every right to be upset and leave, in between Glassman and work. But seeing the worry in place of what Shaun had claimed would only be apathy to his disappearance, it was difficult to stay as confident in her encouragement.

She couldn't unlock his phone. It wasn't her right to begin with, but mostly, if she did, he'd notice and call her out on snooping. He hadn't checked his phone since the diner; maybe when he opened it later and saw all of this, he would change his own mind about things and she wouldn't have to get involved. This whole thing was happening because he didn't want to be told what to do, and rightly so. She wasn't about to lecture him on anything. Besides— he'd likely have a passcode. One she didn't know. She scrolled down again through the messages, trying to wrack her brain on what to do. When suddenly she struck gold, going back up to see a more recent message. It was from an unidentified number— a number that was spelled out for her.

'Hey, Shaun! This is Carly. I asked Claire for your number, I hope that's okay? Everyone's really worried about you, they say they can't find you. Are you okay? You can talk to me, if you need someone. :) '

Immediately, knowing she was running out of time, Lea put Shaun's phone down on the table and whipped out her own. She opened her messages and created a new one, typing in the number of this Carly person. Once she did, she rushed to put Shaun's phone back into the same pocket she'd pulled it out of. So far, Shaun wasn't even heading back, yet. She chewed worriedly on the inside of her cheek and tried to figure out the right words. She typed them out slowly, and without any confidence whatsoever that they were anywhere near appropriate enough.

'Hello, Carly? This is Lea— I'm Shaun's neighbor. Shaun's completely fine, he's with me. He wanted to leave San Jose and I offered him a ride. He really just wants to be alone right now, if that's at all possible. But if you could tell everyone that he's alright? Thanks.'

She didn't move for a long moment, just staring at the draft of a text message. She shifted uneasily in her seat, and discomfort was quick to make her heart race. She agonized over what to do— whether to send it or delete it. It really wasn't her place; she was already way too involved in this situation to begin with. Sticking her nose even further into it probably wasn't the best thing to do. She glanced over her shoulder, and stiffened this time when she saw Shaun coming back to the table. Whipping back front, her mind was made up in that instant. And Lea quickly jabbed her finger on the 'send' button before she shoved her phone back into her pocket, trying to make it seem like she hadn't been doing anything.

Like she hadn't just likely made a big mistake.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Yup. Huge mistake.

Her phone had caught the bug that Shaun's had. She was almost impressed by how quickly it had happened, too. Less than two hours had passed before her phone had vibrated with the very first text, from that girl she had messaged to begin with. She'd glanced at Shaun, but he hadn't paid mind to the ring; they were playing the alphabet game as they drove, and he was currently searching for an 'O' word to call out. She was way behind on letter 'G'. She had picked up her phone and quickly went to her messages, ruining her track record of being a 'very good driver' by texting while she did.

'Hi, Lea. Can you please ask Shaun to return someone's call? Or can you tell me what's happening? Is he okay?' And a heartbeat after that, she got a: 'There won't be any blame on him when he comes back, can you make sure he knows that? Can you tell him?'

And from then on, it was like this Carly chick had set off a bomb. Given that she had to keep her phone on for the GPS, the notifications kept popping up. Notification after notification after notification. She couldn't keep herself from reading bits and pieces of some of them. They were all from unidentifiable numbers, of course. They weren't listed out like they had been in Shaun's, though she was positive it was from the same people. She didn't stop to read them all entirely, but she got the gist. 'Is this Lea? Shaun's friend? I'm—' 'Lea? This is Claire, I work with Shaun. Could you just tell me—?' 'Hello, this is—' 'I don't want to bother you, and I know you're probably just as confused, but—' 'Lea, this is Doctor Glassman. I understand that Shaun is upset, and he has every right to be. But please—' 'Hello?' 'Lea, can I call you?' 'Will you answer if I call?'

They'd come like rapid fire. But she'd done her best to ignore them and just focus on making the final stretch to Casper.

Eventually, they did. They drove by a cheery sign that welcomed them to the town, and Shaun had actually smiled at Lea's victory cheer. The brief amount of excitement was enough to wake her up more, and Lea perked as she took in as much of the place as she could. It was weird, to see where Shaun had apparently grown up. Thanks to the fact that it had taken them some extra time to get here, and that it was winter and the sun was already setting by five pm, it wasn't in the light of day. She couldn't see as much as she'd wanted to. But she was exhausted anyway, so she saved her curiosity and her questions. She'd asked Shaun if it was okay if they just found someplace to stay for the time being, before they did anything else. Of course, he'd said it was.

They landed on a hotel that looked good enough from the outside. She had no idea how much money Shaun had with him – a surgical resident had to make at least a little more than her, right? – but he'd already said he would pay for the room. Again, she wasn't about to argue. They parked in the lot of a Ramada Plaza, and they got their bags out of the back. Lea was so exhausted, she didn't even stop to spare a passing glance at the lobby on their way in, despite the fact that that was usually the easiest way to judge on how great the place actually was.

The person at the desk greeted them warmly, though Lea could only guess what a mess they looked like to them. In span of way more than twenty-four hours, she'd only had a four-hour cat nap that was accidental. She was so tired she was dizzy; if Shaun had wanted to go to a town just thirty more minutes farther, she probably wouldn't have been able to make it. Her hair was a mess and her eyes stung they were so tired of staying open. Shaun was disheveled too— you couldn't be in the car for over ten hours and come out unscathed. His eyes were dark with bags as well. Together, they would make pretty good zombies on Halloween.

They got their key and trudged to their room. The second the door was unlocked, Lea went in first and just dropped her bag on the floor, not caring where it landed. She staggered to the nearest bed and flopped down on the mattress. Usually she was all for hotel rooms, and the first thing she'd do was scour the place and investigate— and begin her strategic stealing of shampoos and soaps. But now, she didn't even stop to look at the bed before she dropped like a weight. She bounced a little bit, as lifeless as a ragdoll. She mumbled against the blankets; she wasn't quite sure herself what she'd wanted to say. It might have been something about never driving again.

Shaun was wandering over towards the desk near the window. She heard him say something, but it didn't quite click. She'd been planning on lifting her head up and asking him to repeat himself. She almost got herself to. But she couldn't force herself to move anymore, and only a small piece of consciousness was even awake enough to wonder in the first place. Before she could so much as say 'Whoops', she was asleep. Face-down on the bed, with her legs hanging off, and her feet on the floor.

But in light of everything, it was the single-most comfortable position in the entire world.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

She woke up gradually, and with about ten million times more difficulty than normal. Her head felt like it was filled with water, and, sluggish, she dragged it up off of the blankets. She was pretty sure that she had at least seven crease marks crisscrossing her face. It took a couple seconds for her to collect herself. To crawl out of her fuzzy sleep, rather unwillingly. The first thing she realized was that the room was actually pretty good-looking. It was a standard hotel room – two beds, a desk with an office chair, a TV, a bathroom near the entryway – but it looked neat and clean. There was a framed picture of painted flowers over each bed, which really brought a touch of class to the aesthetic. Or at least that was what the guy in charge of this place probably thought when he'd put them up.

The second thing she realized was that it was light outside. The curtains had been drawn to shut out most of it, but she could still tell. Confused, she turned and looked over at the clock on the bedside table. Her eyes widened at the time. "Oh, geez." Shaun was sitting at the desk, and at her voice, he immediately swiveled to look at her. "It's 10:14," she noted, not without disbelief. "Shaun, when did you get up? You should have shoved me or something. I can't believe I slept this long." Well, she could believe it. It was just something you said. She yawned and pushed herself up, stiff from the awkward position she'd been in for so long.

Shaun watched her, his hands clasped together. "I woke up at three," he replied. "I didn't think you'd want to get up then. You were tired."

"Three!?" she echoed. She hopped back so that she could sit on the bed and cross her legs. She looked at her friend like he'd just announced he preferred sauerkraut to ice cream. "Shaun, you woke up at three in the morning and you didn't go back to sleep? Why? Aren't you tired? We had a super long day yesterday!" She rubbed at her eyes, shaking her head to clear the lingering fuzziness away.

He shrugged. "I couldn't sleep."

Her face fell. She dropped her arms back down to her lap and sagged. She looked at her friend sympathetically. "Are you feeling any better this morning? You didn't sleep very much…but my mom always said that problems always seemed smaller after a little bit of rest." She tilted her head to the side. "Are you…happier? Or maybe…did you call anyone back? Are they still trying to get ahold of you?" At the question, she turned to her own phone and reached over to tap the home button. It took her a heartbeat to realize what the issue was, when nothing happened. It was dead.

She sighed, her stomach sinking.

"No," Shaun answered. The only issue being she wasn't sure which of her questions he was answering. She kept staring at him, and he opted to look away.

Once again, it hit her what exactly they were doing. That they were hours and hours away from home, on a sheer whim. Now that they were here, after all that driving, what were they going to do? Shaun had wanted to come here, not her. He was in charge of this entire operation. She was just along to chauffer. She'd never even been to Wyoming before now. Granted, going by the weather, she was okay with that. But still. The silence that followed Shaun's reply only seemed to exist to remind her that what they were doing was a question mark. That they were flying by the seat of their pants.

They'd gotten here in one piece. Now what?

Shaun was still studying the wooden desk like it was a textbook. But he was the person to break the silence, this time. "Can I ask you something?"

She shot him a grin, knowing he wouldn't see it. "That's already asking me something, Shaun," she quipped. The joke didn't land, though. She just rolled her eyes, her smile staying put. "Of course you can," she scoffed. "You can ask me anything you'd like. At this point, I don't see what more damage you can possibly do."

He glanced at her, reluctant anyway. His voice was layered in hesitation when he wormed out his request. "Could you drive me somewhere?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story ended up being longer than I anticipated. There will be three chapters instead of two, but I already have thirteen pages of chapter three done, so that will arrive shortly. And then I shall be finished!  
> It has come to my attention that this is the plot of episode eleven, so...I would like to restate that I did write this BEFORE episode eleven/its summary was released~! And that now, I hope it just doesn't look too bad side-by-side with whatever will come on January 8th, haha.  
> Thank you very much for reading! I really hope you like this chapter, and the final one to come after it. Like I always say, any typos, anything wrong, I would be more than happy to fix!  
> Merry Christmas Eve!

"Shaun. Hey. Shaun, look." He did. Crammed into Lea's mouth was the biggest orange slice she'd ever seen in her entire life. Naturally, the instant she'd seen it, she'd known that there was no other option other than to make a smiley face out of it. Now, her jaw was basically at risk of dislocating, her mouth was open so wide to accommodate the fruit. But she still successfully managed the grin, and she crossed her eyes so that she was looking down at her nose. Her next words were muffled around the slice. She meant to ask: "Do I have something in my teeth?" But all that came out was "Du I 'av' thomthin' 'n 'y 'eef?" Then she'd proceeded to crack herself up, which was usually how most of her jokes ended. The fact she was giggling around the orange made her snort even harder.

Shaun's expression was teetering between a grin, and the type of look a mother had in the store when her child was being obnoxious but they were in public so she couldn't do anything about it. Both of which were pretty fair reactions. Lea snickered even more, and she wiggled her jaw around until she could shove the slice out of her mouth, now fully drained off all its juice. She put it back down her plate; it was the last bit of food she'd had left to eat. Now the rind could join her napkin in useless harmony.

They'd gotten up just a tad bit too late to snag the free breakfast that their hotel offered. She'd considered giving Shaun a hard time about missing the mark, but given the situation, Lea had decided against it. They'd just gotten ready instead, without feeling the need to rush and make the deadline. They'd taken showers and changed their clothes— they'd actually been able to get the feeling of their god-awfully-long road trip off of them. Then they'd set out for someplace else to eat. It ended up being an IHop, because Lea was still craving breakfast, despite their lateish rise. The bill had been paid already; they'd just been wrapping up the last of what was on their plates.

She noticed with a small pang that Shaun had only eaten about half of his food.

"Okay," she grinned, pushing her plate away, so that Shaun knew she wasn't planning on goofing off anymore. She couldn't help it, though; after she'd finally been given the chance to finally sleep and sleep long, she felt energized. She'd forgotten what it was like not to be exhausted, and she had to say, that it was pretty nice, not running on fumes. "So. You wanted to go where?" she asked, looking across the table to him with a bit of skepticism. "You want to go to a dumpster? Right?"

"No," Shaun replied". "A junkyard."

"Right…" Seventeen hours and nine minutes to go someplace that was easily recreated in her own apartment. "And you want to go to a junkyard….why?" She hadn't even been completely sure those were actually places you could go. She'd never been to one herself, is what she meant to say. She wasn't sure many people could claim they've been to a junkyard, though, and there was probably a reason for that. Only one thing should enter that place and that was…junk. She imagined that even if you had made a trip to one, it wasn't exactly someplace you bragged about. You just couldn't say it the same way you could say: 'I went to Disneyland.' It didn't have quite the same ring.

"Did you lose something there? Something you want to go and get back?" she asked. Though the thought was enough to make her sigh, part of her wouldn't be surprised if Shaun had wanted to come all this way to search for something he'd lost before he'd moved. He had a tendency to obsess, which was fine. It just maybe wasn't 'fine' enough to warrant a road trip like this. Even as the thoughts crossed through her mind, though, Lea knew that it was a far-off assumption. Shaun had been driven away from San Jose by something huge. Therefore, he'd been drawn to this specific place by something huge as well. Something bigger than accidental trash.

However, Shaun didn't immediately meet the false assumption with a no like he had her other one. In fact, the way he looked at her almost made her inclined to repeat her question, as if it actually could be the reason they'd come all this way. But as soon as she was about to, he seemed to anticipate it, and he looked away. A silent warning for her not to. She'd rather get some answers, because by this point she thought she had earned at least a few. If she had a mental list of everything she wanted cleared up, it would probably be able to stretch all the way back to the front door of her apartment.

But she knew not to push. Not now. She just pursed her lips a little bit and she looked down at the table, tapping her hands against it once. "So." She looked back at her friend and raised her eyebrows. "A junkyard, then." He nodded once. She mimicked him. "Alright. You're the captain of this ship, so whatever you say goes, I guess," she exhaled. "How far away is it from here?"

"It's not far," Shaun reassured.

She nodded again. "Okay." She let out a gusty sigh and prepped herself all over again for driving into the unknown. She liked to think at this point she was getting quite skilled at it. She leaned over and took one last sip of her soda, before she turned and offered him a lopsided smile. "Let's keep on truckin', then."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

'Hey, Lea, this is Claire again. I've never met you, but Shaun has told me a lot about you at work, and from what I've heard and from what's going on right now, I know that you're a very good friend. But I'm a friend of his too, and right now I'm just really worried about him. I haven't heard from him at all, and this silence isn't helping. Please just let me call you.'

'Lea? This is Jared. I might be bothering you, but this whole situation is bothering the rest of us, so if you could just call me back? Call anyone back?'

'Lea. I don't know if you've gotten my other texts, but this is Aaron Glassman. I understand that Shaun doesn't want to hear from anyone at the moment, but you have to understand—'

She sighed and switched her phone off. She wasn't getting as many texts or calls as she'd had yesterday after she'd first contacted Carly. But even a couple was probably more than she should be getting, as it was. She wasn't even checking her phone anymore. She'd charged it this morning while she'd gotten ready; it only had about thirty percent on it, so she was trying to blame its dying battery on the fact that she wasn't looking at it as much. When really it was mostly because she could tell that everyone's patience was beginning to wear thin. It seemed the longer they remained silent, the more agitated and worried the efforts to contact them became.

Which she couldn't blame them for. Claire was right; they were just concerned. If the tables were flipped and Claire had been the one to offer Shaun a ride and Lea had been the one in the dark, she would be just as annoying. She might have even been more annoying, depending on whether or not Jackson had still sent her that Twitter post about Shaun. If she was in Claire's shoes, she would be begging for news just as incessantly, and she would be just as angry that she wasn't forcing him to talk to her.

But they were only being this way because they hadn't seen anything that Lea had. None of them had seen how broken he'd looked in his apartment, and nobody else had had to suffer through the silence that had plagued the car for the first long half of their drive. Nobody else had heard his voice crack in sorrow when he'd talked about Glassman giving up on him. Nobody else had seen the weight that was pushing down on his shoulders, or the dark shadows that were still underneath his eyes from a lack of sleep. That was why they were pestering, and demanding why it was such a big deal that he stop for a moment just to say hello: because they just didn't know.

The tables weren't flipped. Claire hadn't brought Shaun here; Lea had. And she knew everything. So she was resolute. She wasn't going to force Shaun to do anything he didn't want to. She hadn't even told him that she was getting these messages, because she knew that they were one hundred percent still bombarding his phone, too. If he wanted to talk to them, he would contact them. If he wanted them to know where he was, he would tell them. If he didn't…then he didn't. And Lea wasn't going to make him. She was here for him and him alone. She wasn't here for Claire, or Jared, or Glassman, or anyone else.

So she said nothing, and she bottled back her own feelings. She'd let them know that he was okay, when she'd texted Carly. That was as far as she needed to go. Nothing more. So she pocketed her phone and put the other party out of her mind, focusing on the moment at hand. She was still trailing behind Shaun, letting him lead the way through the unfamiliar territory that was the junkyard. She tried not to eye the place with too much distaste. So far it looked, felt, and smelled exactly like she figured it would. Again, she wondered why Shaun had wanted to come to a place like this. But it wasn't like she was brave enough to ask.

Mainly, she was just looking out for rats.

It was freezing. She lifted her hands up to her mouth and blew hot air into them, shaking them out to help her blood circulate a bit more. They'd only been walking for a couple minutes, after she'd left her car behind the fence line, but it was so cold out that it didn't even matter. Shaun, of course, didn't seem as put-off by the temperature. He was only paying mind to where they were going. He hadn't even glanced over his shoulder once to see whether or not she was following. She wasn't sure whether that was out of trust, or if it was just because he'd forgotten everything else, in his desire to get wherever they were heading.

Eventually, weaving their way through clumps of trash and long-abandoned objects – they'd passed a car and an overturned wheelbarrow and a rusted washing machine – they came up to what Shaun had apparently been looking for. Her eyes widened as they landed on an old-looking and rotted-out school bus. She stuttered to a stop, and she looked at Shaun in confusion. Her mind flashed quickly back to the photograph she had seen in Shaun's apartment. The bus that the two children had been sitting in. He still wasn't paying attention to her, though. Without even pausing, he was wriggling open the doors to let himself inside. He was oblivious to the look that was on her face.

She'd wanted nothing more than to ask what the story was behind the picture, ever since she'd first seen it. But now, standing here with the circumstances that they'd had, and remembering the look on his face when she'd asked if he'd lost something here…she wasn't entirely sure she didn't want to take that feeling back. She took in a measured breath and pushed herself back into motion. She followed Shaun, and scaled the steps after he managed the doors.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been on a school bus like this. It certainly didn't bring up the best memories— mostly kids throwing stuff and yelling obnoxiously and just being assholes in general. The second she'd gotten her driver's license, she'd said goodbye to it forever. But in all honesty, even if she had ridden the bus up until the very last day of her senior year, she still wouldn't have been able to associate school buses with what she was in, now.

It looked like it had in the picture. So it stood to reason that it looked nothing like any bus she'd ever been in before. It looked more like a makeshift…house. The connection already set her stomach churning a little, but she forced herself to look around anyway. At a folding chair that was situated in the middle of it, and a deflated and worn-out soccer ball in one of the corners. She looked nearer to the front, where she'd seen the mattress in the photo, and sure enough it was still there. It was decaying and wasting away, but it was there. Just like the sleeping bag was. It was torn and it was ripped, but it had stood the test of time to the best of his ability.

Shaun had stopped in the center, by the folding chair. The both of them were forced to hunch a little awkwardly in order to avoid brushing their heads against the ceiling. Lea was having an easier time, considering Shaun was way taller than her. He was bent over just a little bit at the waist. Or maybe that was just him staggering underneath whatever weight this place held for him. He was completely silent. He was looking around slowly, his eyes taking in every miniscule detail there was to see. Studying him in silence, Lea tried to discern what he was thinking. His stare was odd— overly focused and yet vacant at the same time. Like he was looking at everything, yet he saw absolutely nothing.

She weakened. But she gave him a moment. She pressed her lips together tightly and just looked around too. At the cobwebs swathing the corners, and the spiders that hovered nearby. She looked at the dirt and the grime that layered thick over the floor and the walls. Scattered around, were wrappers of something she couldn't discern, for how faded they were; if she had to guess, she'd say it might have been from chocolate bars. Balled up in the farthest corner looked like some musty old clothes. Beside the heap looked like a backpack, but it was too far away for her to tell. She saw some books too, scattered and tossed around in no particular order. She narrowed her eyes and bent over a little bit to try and read the title of one. It was so dirty and molded, that she couldn't be sure. But it kind of looked like it might have been one of those tiny pocket dictionaries.

Hours seemed to pass in silence. Complete silence that threatened to suffocate the both of them, it was so all-encompassing. She crossed her arms over her chest, finding that the bus did next to nothing to keep out the cold. She shivered. "What is this place?" she asked after who knew how long. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper. She was worried Shaun hadn't heard her, because he didn't react to her in the slightest. His eyes had landed on the book her gaze had flickered over to, and they lingered there for a bit longer. Just like they seemed to have gotten stuck on the wrappers, and the mattress, and the folding chair. He seemed so focused on that, she wouldn't have been surprised if her murmur had gone right over his head.

But he replied after a heartbeat, still looking down. His voice was at its normal volume level, but he startled Lea and nearly made her jump right out of her skin. Suddenly, he might as well have been screaming. "It's a bus," he stated, and Lea had half a mind to smack him in the back of his head at the answer. But the brief sting of irritation was gone when he continued. "It's where we lived." He rocked forward a little bit, and nodded once. Like he was answering a question correct on a test and he was just putting the finishing touches on it. "This was our home," he completed. He leaned down to pick up the dictionary. Handling it with an obscene amount of care, she watched as he flipped through some of the pages, his expression heavy. She wasn't sure, but she wondered with a sting of alarm whether his eyes were becoming shiny with tears, or if it was just a trick of the filtered light.

"'We,'" she murmured. "You and…you and that other little boy that was in that picture. The one you brought with you." She'd not missed the fact that he'd shoved it into his bag along with everything else. That this morning it had been sitting on the table between their beds, as if it had belonged there from the very beginning, and was just as much a part of the room as the paintings that had been on the wall. "You two…lived here?" She couldn't help it; she couldn't keep the alarm and disbelief out of her voice. She looked at the tattered mattress and the strewn candy bar wrappers. She looked at the clothes in the corner, and the 'drapes' that hung over the windows. "Just…for fun, right?" she demanded, her voice beginning to thin and strain. "Like…you came down here to camp out? Instead of home? On the weekends?"

Shaun looked back at her. She was probably doing a horrible job of keeping herself composed. But Lea didn't like what her friend was saying at all. She didn't want to look at the picture he was painting for her. She wanted to know everything, inside and out. She wanted to know why they were here in this bus, who the boy had been, why the two had been here instead of home, why this was where Shaun had wanted to go, what this entire thing meant. But she also wanted him to stop talking immediately. To stop before he grabbed her hand and pulled her across a bridge she knew that once she crossed, she could not go back over.

Before this moment, Shaun had said nothing about his personal life to her whatsoever. Nothing about his parents, his siblings, his childhood. She'd been curious, naturally, but not curious enough to actually ask him about it. She'd figured it was like any other relationship; the past only came up after a month or so, once you'd gotten pretty close, and it came up in increments, as it was relevant to occasional situations. Like: "Oh, I had one of those when I was younger. My dad got it for me." Or: "I'm sorry, I just don't like that. When I was younger…"

There was none of that, with Shaun. It could have been blamed on the fact that they weren't entirely close like that yet. Or that Shaun was just naturally closed-off to begin with. But now, staring at him in silence, she suddenly realized that there could be an entirely different reason why he never spoke of his past to her, or to anyone else. A horrifying, distressing reason that seemed to already be casting its shadow over the pair. And sure enough, the tightness in her chest tripled its force when Shaun eventually brought himself to reply. "No. Not on the weekends."

She stiffened. Part of her might have wanted to say something, but shock and fear rendered her mute. She could only stare at her friend, who turned back to the dictionary. He thumbed through its pages. His fingers stopped every so often to linger over some choice words. "I…lived here with my brother."

Despite her trepidation, Lea's mouth twitched in the smallest hint of a smile. "You have a brother?" she breathed. She took this small piece of news – good news, news that didn't hurt to hear, or at least not yet – and tried to latch onto it as tightly as possible, against the logic that was staring at her in the face. Against the fact that Shaun had not listed any family members he could go to when she'd asked in his apartment. Against the fact that every single text or missed call she'd seen on his phone had not been from anyone outside of his work. She wanted to hear something good; something positive. She wanted this to be one bit of light in a situation that quickly plunging dark.

But it was a vain hope.

"I had a brother," Shaun corrected her, fairly, and without any bitterness. Like she'd gotten a fact wrong in an essay and he was merely there to nudge her in a better direction. 'You're a bit wrong, there; Christopher Columbus actually never set foot in America.' Not: 'No, I don't have a brother. The one I had before is dead.' "His name was Steve," he continued. His attention was still fixated on the words staring back at him. He was ignorant to Lea's stricken expression, and the fact that her eyes were now boring holes through him. "He was my little brother. He died."

"Oh…" she rasped, the single syllable empty and hollow. Immense sorrow was quick to come over her, now, and she looked at her friend mournfully. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Shaun," she whispered. "How— how did he die?"

"He fell," Shaun elaborated, still in that neutral tone of voice he always used. But now Lea knew for a fact it was not a trick of the light. Shaun's eyes were welling up with tears, and they were welling fast. His lips pressed a little bit tighter together, and his posture was stiffer. She watched each change in deep sorrow, and her own throat began to burn in painful sympathy. "We were playing hide and seek. He slipped; I couldn't get help for him. I called Doctor Glassman, and I held him in the car on the way to the hospital. But it was too late." He stopped for three seconds. To collect himself as best he could. "It was sad."

"How old were you?" Lea breathed.

"Fourteen."

She winced. She couldn't imagine it. Shaun was the nicest, sweetest person she had ever met on this planet. He was blunt, and sometimes he could come off as rude because of that, but he was only so honest because he thought everyone was entitled to the truth. He didn't deserve to watch his brother die in front of him. To hold him in the car and know that it was all for nothing, and that he'd passed away anyway. All at fourteen. She tried to picture it, but it made her too sick to. Now, even the thought of the photo back at their hotel room made her ill. At the large smile on Steve's face that stretched from ear to ear. He'd looked so happy. Shaun had looked happy too.

But…

"Why did you call Doctor Glassman?" That meant Shaun had known the man ever since he was fourteen, at least. And that he'd been the person Shaun had called in an emergency as harrowing as the one he'd described. They definitely had a relationship, then— especially if they were still close now. Not just a boss-employee relationship; not at all. "Why not call—" She doubled back, realizing her mistake as she tailored her question. "What about your parents? Why were you living out here in the first place?" As she asked, she braced herself for more heartache, and more death. Some awful story about losing both his mom and his dad at an even younger age than fourteen. Maybe that's why he never mentioned anybody: there simply wasn't anybody left to mention. Maybe death had just followed him like a plague, and he was the only one left standing, completely alone.

But she was absolutely mortified at the answer she got instead.

"He promised me we would never go back," Shaun replied. "After my father threw my rabbit against the wall."

Never had she instantly wished that the answer really had been death.

She went rigid. At first she just thought that she hadn't heard him right. "He— after what?" she stuttered, her eyes rounding out in bemused alarm. "What did your dad do?"

Shaun frowned. His expression was morphing into one more akin to pain; it seemed as though the longer this went on, the more it hurt him to speak and provide detail. If Lea was thinking straight, she might have stopping barraging him with as many questions. She might have realized that she was probably putting him under even more unneeded stress and pressure. If she was thinking, she would have at least spaced out her inquiries and given him a moment to breathe. Or at the very least, allow him the chance to do whatever he'd wanted to do here in the first place.

But she wasn't thinking straight. Before this, she'd thought she'd had Shaun all figured out. Now, everything was coming undone and falling to pieces around her. She was too winded to think of anything other than the need to get to the bottom of as much as she could. It was a selfish thought, but it was the only one available to her right now.

"I was in trouble," Shaun started, talking slowly, as if he was trying to pick exactly the right words. "At school. I wasn't allowed back. It wasn't the first time. My father was angry. He was yelling at me…and he hit me." She froze, her blood turning to ice in her veins. "Steve tried to help, but he pushed him. And then…he grabbed my bunny and threw it against the wall. We crawled out of our window, and took him to Doctor Glassman. But he was already dead. Steve promised me we would never go back, after that."

Lea's eyes were stinging, now. Shaun still wasn't looking at her, and she was grateful, when she felt the first tear track its way down her cheek. "Had he hit you before?" she rasped.

Shaun nodded once. "Yes." She closed her eyes, lowering her head and cringing. The sorrow and anger that stabbed into her chest nearly caused her knees to buckle, and it snatched all the breath straight out of her lungs. "He hit us a lot. It was usually because of me. He didn't like me. He wanted me to be normal." He held the dictionary to his chest now, and he turned to walk to the right instead. To what looked like low tables or some kind of makeshift shelving— a place to put things, where the rest of the interior of the bus wasn't offering much in that department.

There was a box resting on top, amid a bunch of other random-looking things that must have served a purpose. It looked just as dirty and faded and cracked as everything else around it, but Shaun seemed to know exactly what it was. Shifting so that he was holding the book in one arm, he reached out with the other and grabbed what was on top; it looked like one of those bright yellow safety hats that construction workers wore while they were working. Or, at least, it would have been bright yellow, once upon a time. He set it inside and delved deeper; Lea stepped forward a little bit to see a couple of tiny toy tools. She could see a hammer, and other things of that nature. They were cute-looking, and a little bulky, and immediately she made the connection to the toy scalpel Shaun had been holding nearly the entire way to Wyoming.

She choked back a heavy swallow. She looked down at the ground and let her expression crumble just briefly while he wasn't paying attention, reaching up and hastily wiping at her eyes. It was strange, to be the one crying here. Shaun was doing his best not to break— she could see every ounce of effort it was taking him to remain composed. She had to try and do the same. "That's awful," she whispered, looking back at her friend and grimacing as he just turned, gravitating over to another part of the bus. He was like a hummingbird, rushing around and grasping at whatever he could find. He went to the folding chair he'd been beside earlier, and he let a hand brush over the back of it gently. "I'm so sorry, Shaun, you didn't deserve that. Neither did— neither did Steve. Your father…he just didn't see what an amazing person you were. Are."

Shaun blinked, but said nothing. She saw a tear mark its way down his face.

Something about the way he'd worded it was rubbing her the wrong way, though. "You know it wasn't your fault?" she dared to ask. When he still didn't reply, her desperation and sorrow began to burn hotter underneath her skin. "Your dad— what happened with your brother— that wasn't your fault. None of it was because of you, you know that, right? You don't blame yourself? It was completely awful, Shaun, and I'm so sorry you had to go through all of it…" Her lower lip shook, and she had to stop and take a deep breath to keep her voice from fracturing. "But it wasn't because of anything you did. You didn't ask for any of it— you didn't deserve any of it."

Shaun was still silent, and she figured that that was enough. Maybe that was too far— maybe this was something that Shaun wasn't willing to speak about yet, or it was a line that she couldn't cross. The realization came slowly, and not without another heavy kick of pain at what that could mean. But she was aware enough to take it into consideration this time, and she moved on. "I understand…why you wanted to come here," she murmured. It was the last place he'd been with his brother, who seemed to be the only person he'd had, back then. Maybe he considered him the only person he'd had…ever. It sounded like he'd trusted Doctor Glassman…now, with the broken way he'd looked at her in his apartment and with the deflated murmur of "He gave up on me", Lea knew that whatever had been there had been shattered. Maybe beyond repair.

Shaun hadn't just wanted to come back home, he'd wanted to come back to his brother.

She remembered the innocent question she'd asked back at the restaurant.

"And you want to go to a junkyard…why? Did you lose something there? Something you want to go and get back?"

He had only stared at her, when she'd asked. He hadn't said no.

Now she knew why.

Shaun turned again. He walked from the chair to the left, to where the mattress was laying on the floor. It looked lumpy and worn, to say the least. Considering this bus had been in the junkyard, it must not have been in the best shape in the first place, when they'd found it. The years had treated it unkindly, and it had treated everything inside it just the same. It was decayed away and thin; half of Lea wondered whether or not there could be bugs or some other creature living inside it. But she didn't object when Shaun sat down, and she still said nothing when he moved to lay his head down on the dirty pillow. She couldn't possibly. All she did was turn and sit down on the floor, crossing her legs and clasping her hands in her lap.

Silence reigned. Before Shaun broke it into pieces with the smallest of murmurs. "I can't stay anywhere." Lea looked up from her lap and over to him, her heart tearing at the look that was on his face. At the tears that were there. Somehow, even after the confrontation in his apartment, she still wasn't used to seeing him cry. "I couldn't stay with Steve. I couldn't stay at Saint Bonaventure. I can't stay anywhere. It's not fair." The admission caused a sudden wave of white-hot tears to blur Lea's vision. She bit down hard on her tongue to keep herself grounded, and she tried not to blink, in the hopes that some of the water would be reabsorbed. Shaun didn't seem to care, though. His own blinked down his face like raindrops. "This was where I came the last time…but it doesn't help."

"The last time what?" Lea managed to ask.

Shaun wasn't looking at her. He shifted to pull his legs up towards his chest, to be in a more defensive position. "The last time I felt like I couldn't do anything right," he murmured softly. "The last time…someone made me think that I couldn't take care of myself." Lea stared at him dismally, her heart lodged tight in her throat. The look on her friend's face was a haunted one. One that showed years of bottled-back uncertainty ingrained by a father figure, now resurfacing, thanks to everything that was happening. He looked confused, and lost, and not at all the neighbor she had grown to know and love. He was an entirely different person— tired, and sad, and stuck. "The last time I didn't know what else to do," he finished weakly.

Lea wasn't sure what to say. She wasn't sure what would suffice, or even come close to being enough. She wiped at her eyes again, and took in a slow breath that shook a little bit on its way down. Eventually, she landed on something; it wasn't really the best, but it wasn't the worst thing she could conjure up. "You're not alone, Shaun," she reassured. His eyes did flicker to her with this, and she offered him a gentle smile. "If you don't know what else to do…then we'll both be lost. Together."

He held her stare for only a few heartbeats before he ducked back down. She watched as he reached into his pocket for that scalpel again, and she watched him clasp it in both hands, close to his chest. He ducked his head down to look at the toy, and he curled up even tighter. The silence cropped up again, and this time it wasn't broken by either of them. Shaun's attention was solely on the thing he held in his hands, which Lea now knew was a memento of Steve.

Eventually, looking over at him every so often, Lea realized that his eyes were growing fuzzier and fuzzier, and closing more and more. He was beginning to fall asleep, despite the state of the mattress and the temperature of the bus. Lea knew that he'd gotten up this morning at three, but she'd never asked what time he'd actually gone to bed after her. Judging by the bags under his eyes, and the faraway look he'd had during breakfast, she was sure that he hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep. Especially given how long a day they'd had yesterday.

So she didn't try and rouse him. She was freezing, but she didn't make a move to nudge him up, or jar him back into alertness. She just listened with a heavy heart to his breathing slow and deepen, until he was fully asleep. Until his expression wasn't that pained look of heartache, but actually serene, and relaxed. It hurt her to see this, and to know how far away he was from such peace when he was awake. It hurt her to look at him and wonder what he had looked like as a fourteen-year-old boy, first here, driven out by his father, and then on his own and who knew where, after his brother had passed.

She'd had no idea. Never in a million years would she have looked at Shaun and guessed any of what he'd just said had ever happened to him. But sitting on the floor of the bus he'd been forced to call a home, Lea was more able to put together her puzzle based on all of this new information. She didn't want to do it, and it made her sick to connect each piece. But it was becoming more and more obvious. He'd been so upset over this whole thing because Glassman had made it seem like he didn't trust him to take care of himself; if Lea's assumption was right, and Shaun was very close to Glassman…had they been like a father and a son? It must have taken an obscene amount of trust for Shaun to have forged such a relationship again, after the one he'd been subjected to the first time around.

The bigger that trust grew, the more fragile it became. He was betrayed a second time over, and this time, it must have cut even deeper.

It also explained little things about him she'd never quite placed before, too. She'd thought before that he just had that toy with him as a testament to his job. Now she knew it was because it was related to his brother— he took it out when he was nervous simply because it reminded him of him. It also explained why he was so jumpy, and so easily startled. The other day, she'd heard his door opening and closing, and she'd popped her head out into the hall to chirp out a bright: 'Hello!' He'd reacted viscerally— the very second she'd come out of nowhere, he'd shrank backwards, and his expression had lit up with alarm. His arms had even twitched upwards a bit, as if to shield himself from something. She'd blamed it on the fact that he was just a skittish person, which could have been half the reason. But now, she wondered with a sinking heart whether or not it was because he'd suffered so many unprovoked attacks in the past. Whether the fear was just instinctual, or whether it had been learned over time.

She turned and looked around the bus again, her lips beginning to shake. She looked at the trash, and the crates that were supposed to act as tables, or as shelves. She looked at a frayed and tattered umbrella that was sitting on one of the seats. She looked at the tiny mattress that Shaun was sleeping on, and the threadbare blanket balled off to the side, and tried to picture two kids sharing it. She tried to imagine two kids doing anything in this place. How did they get food? How did they deal with the cold? What did they do for showers, or hygiene?

How long had they been forced to live like this?

She couldn't help it. She looked back at Shaun, fast asleep now and oblivious to her growing distress. And, wondering over how long her friend had suffered, and to what degree, she broke down. She hung her head and hid her face away in her hands, her sorrow and anger and everything in between making her shoulders heave and her chest burn. She made sure to be silent; Shaun had finally managed to fall asleep on his own accord, and she knew that he needed it, so she wasn't going to wake him. But, sitting in the bus surrounded by evidence of far more pain and difficulty than she was even capable of processing, Lea's rage and guilt and sympathy combined into a force that broke down the wall she'd carefully begun to construct ever since she'd first walked into Shaun's apartment two nights ago.

And she cried.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Sakura cheese from Hokkaido is a soft cheese flavored with leaves from this fruit tree."

Shaun was sitting back at the desk in the office chair, but he spoke up with an answer, just like he had for every question that Alex Trebek had asked up until this point. "Cherry." He didn't look up from the pamphlet he was reading about the hotel. The things that were always sitting out, but were never read because most people didn't even give it a second glance. It was that pamphlet's lucky day, because Shaun Murphy was staying in this hotel room, and, with nothing else to do, of course he would resort to this. Lea was laying on her bed, hanging upside down off of it and trying to see whether or not Jeopardy! was any more entertaining to watch if it was flipped. So far it wasn't. But watching Shaun get all the answers right kind of was. Sure enough, this one turned out to be the correct response, too.

All the same, her nose wrinkled. "That answer wasn't in the form of a question, Shaun," she chided. "You would have gotten it wrong."

He blinked and looked up from reading up about the hotel's offering of fast-speed wifi. Which was bullshit, because the connection speed may as well have been covered in molasses, the way it was working on Lea's phone. But that could just be blamed on the fact she had literally never been more popular in her entire life than she was right at this very moment. She was getting texts and calls like it was nobody's business. She had half a mind to block some of them just to shut it up, but she didn't have the heart. Every time she almost did, her guilty conscience ended up stopping her in her tracks. "Oh," Shaun mumbled, looking back at the TV.

Alex was moving on. "On September 1, 1715, Louis XIV died in this city, site of a fabulous palace he built."

"What is Versailles?" Shaun replied, conforming to the style now.

Lea snickered. And when he was proven right, she gave him a round of applause. "There you go," she grinned, the expression coming off as a frown since she was still hanging upside down. "You should go on this show, Shaun, you'd walk off as a millionaire. As long as you remembered to say everything as a question." Shaun seemed to consider the venture before he turned back to reading about the wifi— apparently, he deemed this more important. Lea watched him turn, and when his back was to her again, she let her smile wilt. Concern and worry etched into place instead as she studied him a little closer.

They'd gotten back to the hotel about an hour ago. Shaun had been startled when he'd finally woken up, and he'd apologized for sleeping so long. Lea was practically an icicle by the time his eyes opened again. She hadn't wanted to listen to his remorse, so she had dismissed him easily. But it was late enough that the two had gone out to get something to eat, which had allowed her the chance to thaw out a little bit. The conversation over the table had been a little bit more muted, just like it was now. She hadn't been quite sure what to say. Every time she looked at Shaun, she just saw the bus and the stories he had told her. The mental images and scenes that it conjured. She couldn't be blamed for it: it had been a jarring realization. But it had occurred to her only a short while ago that this was probably why Shaun hadn't told her about anything in the first place.

She remembered his words in the car.

'What if I tell you and you see me differently?'

'Shaun, I could never see you differently.'

It caused guilt to rise up and bottle in the back of her throat. She tore her gaze away from her friend and redirected it back to the TV. "Shaun?" He'd moved on to reading the regulations and operating hours of the indoor pool downstairs. It was an unspoken agreement they weren't stepping foot in there. But at her voice, he turned back to her. If he was irritated by her constant interruptions, he wasn't showing it. She bit down on her lower lip for a second, before she took in a quick breath and asked as nonchalantly as she could: "Do your parents still live here?"

He seemed surprised at the question. "I don't know," he answered slowly. "I don't talk to them."

"That's understandable."

Silence passed, but Shaun didn't look back to the pamphlet.

Another Jeopardy! question filled the buffer space. "Pseudonym of labor activist & magazine namesake Mary Harris Jones."

Shaun took the moment to answer. "Mother Jones." She looked at him pointedly and raised her eyebrows. He quickly doubled back. "Who is Mother Jones?" It brought a smile to her face, and a tiny giggle to bubble out. Shaun offered a small smile.

She chose her next words with care. "Do you think…you'd ever want to see them again?"

His smile dropped. "I…don't know," he murmured again. "They don't want to talk to me. There's no point."

"That's true I guess," she mused. She kind of felt like she was walking across a thin sheet of ice. She was moving slowly, listening for telltale cracks or snaps, to decide whether or not she needed to leap back onto solid ground and abandon her efforts to walk forward. "You know…you don't have to, Shaun, it's completely up to you..." He eyed her warily, as if he already knew where was going with this. "But if you wanted to go and talk to them…if they were here, I mean…I would go with you. You wouldn't have to go alone. If you don't want to, I would totally get it. I probably wouldn't have the guts to, if I was in your position. I was just saying…"

"What would I say to them?" he asked.

She frowned. She scooted up on the bed so that she wasn't hanging off of it anymore, and she fixated on the ceiling instead. The both of them were now ignoring Alex Trebek and all the weird trivia questions he had to offer. Again, if Lea had been a contestant on that gameshow, she would lose. She wasn't sure there was actually a gameshow on TV that she would do well on. Maybe she'd last a little bit longer on that one gameshow that got cancelled years ago— the one where you had to fit yourself into a specific shape in a wall or else you get knocked back into water. Maybe she'd go a couple rounds on that one.

"I don't know," she murmured, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling above her. "You could tell them…that they didn't hold you back. That you're a surgeon now— that you're successful and you're a good person, despite them and what they did. You could just…make them regret not seeing how amazing a person you are, you know?" Shaun said nothing, and she twisted her head back so that she could look at him. His expression, however, was unreadable. "You don't have to, Shaun," she reassured. "I just wondered if it was something you've ever thought about doing before."

Shaun hesitated. He looked away. "I haven't," he admitted.

"That's fine," she said quickly. "That's okay. We don't have to do it. At all." He said nothing, and, worried she'd overstepped a line, she sat up a little bit and prompted: "Okay?"

He nodded once, still averting his eyes. "Okay."

She eyed him a moment more. Before she laid back down and looked up at the ceiling again. "Okay," she repeated. Shaun was still for a while, before he turned and diverted his attention back to the pamphlet. She wondered if he was really reading it, or if he was just staring down at it so that she wouldn't speak again. Either way, she wasn't going to. It had been a long day; somehow it felt even longer than yesterday. They both needed space, in their own way. So silence came back over the room; the only sound was the back and forth of the gameshow in the background, and even then, she was painfully aware that Shaun wasn't answering any of the questions anymore.

Lea twisted, slipping her phone out of her pocket. She turned it on and weakened at the missed calls that stared back at her. She even had a text from Candice: 'How is your family doing? Have you had the funeral yet?' She quickly shut it back off and closed her eyes as she let it drop back down to the bed. Trying to keep herself composed, she reached up and rubbed at her forehead with the tiniest of exhales. It was a lot to deal with, and handle. The horrible tragedy of Shaun's childhood that she now felt like a weight on top of her chest. The worry and anxiety that came with every failed contact, and every increasingly irritated text. The fact that they were miles from home and they were on a rather thin budget at the same time.

She needed an aspirin.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Shaun. Shaun, look." Again, came the call, and again, Shaun complied only with a little bit of reluctance. Lea was grinning, rolling down the aisle on a skateboard she'd snagged from the toy section. Shaun watched as she zoomed up, and he edged to the side, to avoid getting plowed over. But she snickered and threw her weight backwards, so that she skidded to a stop a ways away from him. A little unsteadily, she hopped off. "It's a skateboard!" she chirped, the declaration unnecessary. "I used to ride these when I was little all the time! I used to be really good. Now, not so much…"

Shaun's eyes flickered down to the board, and he tilted his head to the side. "You looked good on it," he argued.

She lit up. "Really? You think so?" He nodded, and she laughed. "Why thank you, Shaun! I try my darndest." She looked down, sticking her tongue out a bit as she rolled it back and forth. "Here— let's see if I can still do a flip on it. I used to be able to do like…the coolest stuff on these." Shaun seemed less sure about this, but he didn't argue. He just watched in faint nervousness as Lea hopped back on and shot herself off. She rode back down the aisle, coming closer, before she jumped up and attempted to twist the skateboard in midair along with her.

That was what she'd wanted to happen, anyway. What actually happened, was the board flew out from underneath her, and she crashed straight for the ground as it rocketed away, towards the electronics. She probably would have fallen on her face and chipped a tooth had it not been for the fact that Shaun rushed out to catch her at the last second, yanking on her arm a little roughly since it was the closest thing he could grab. But all that mattered was he saved her from becoming one with the tile. She righted herself quickly with his help, her eyes round and her breathing a little winded when she snapped back up. "I can't do a flip anymore!" she squeaked.

Again, it was an unneeded announcement.

Shaun let go of her arm slowly, as if he wasn't sure she still wouldn't fall. "No. You can't," he agreed.

She grinned, and tried to see whether or not she could track down wherever the board had launched off to. "Do you want to take it for a spin?" she puffed, trying to decide whether or not having Shaun Murphy on a skateboard would be the world's best idea, or its worst.

It was solved by Shaun's quick reply. "No." He turned away from her, back to the shelf, to go on with what they were supposed to be doing. She felt a little guilty for the task at hand slipping her mind, but the skateboard had distracted her as soon as she saw it. And besides, she was fighting by now to keep Shaun happy, and any distraction would be a welcome effort. She blew out her cheeks and turned back front with him, to look at the offerings that this lovely Wal-Mart had to offer. But Shaun was already picking one out, a look of pure thought and concentration on his face.

She leaned over a bit to read it. "You think that one?" she asked.

He was silent, as if he wasn't sure. Or maybe he was just thinking. "Yes."

"Cool!" First thing this morning – after they'd actually made it downstairs for free breakfast this time – they'd headed out to Wal-Mart for the sole purpose of buying a book. She'd offered the idea of stopping to get something to bring with them along the way, and Shaun had surprised her by declaring that it should be this. She'd thought for sure he'd argue with her. So here they were, at ten in the morning, readying themselves for a day that would hopefully be better than the one before it. This was the first step. "So, you ready to go, then? Is that all you'll think you'll need? Or do you want something else?"

Shaun was about to reply to her, when he suddenly went silent. Lea looked up with a frown to see that he was staring over her head, his eyes wider than usual as he looked down the main corridor of the store. He looked…alarmed. Caught off-guard, and a little confused, too. She turned around to look as well, but she didn't see anything particularly upsetting. There was a young woman walking down towards them from the other side of the store. She hadn't seen them yet; she was looking down at her phone. There was an old man coming out from the candle aisle, and a teenager rounding the corner out from the clothes section, but Shaun's attention seemed to zero in on the woman.

"Who's—?"

Shaun grabbed her wrist, before she could ask, and he tugged her back deeper into the row of books. Startled by the yank, she threw him an incredulous look, but he wasn't paying any mind to her at all. He didn't let go of her arm, either, though she wasn't putting up any kind of a fight. "Shaun what in the world—?" The uncomfortable look he gave her stopped her in her tracks, and she took the hint to close her mouth. Though she still stared at him oddly. They stayed behind the shelves of books, and she watched in more curiosity than anything else as the woman she'd seen before walked past them and kept going.

She didn't even look at the pair once, let alone give them a second glance.

Shaun however, was stiff and rigid, and he only relaxed once it was apparent that she wasn't going to double back. He finally let go of Lea's arm. She threw him a look, her eyebrows pulling together in a way that silently said 'What the hell?' He looked away from her and back to the novel he held in his hands. And, not very helpfully, he offered her a tiny: "Sorry."

"What was that for, Shaun?" she demanded. She edged out a little bit, to watch the mystery girl walk away. She didn't look that old at all— when she'd first seen his reaction and turned to see a woman, she'd thought for a split second that it might have been his mom. But she looked way too young; she looked around their age, really. Unless his mother knew the secret route to the fountain of youth…. "Do you know her?"

Shaun fidgeted. "Yes."

"Okay…" Lea frowned, figuring she may as well take a shot in the dark, even if it didn't seem right. "Was she…your mom?"

"No."

Shocker. She tried again, just throwing darts at a board and hoping they would stick. "A friend?"

Shaun continued to stare pointedly down at the book. He said nothing for a long moment, and when he finally did speak, it was quiet, and forceful. "We should pay for this," he declared. Lea deflated, disappointment rushing over her face when it became clear that Shaun didn't want to answer. Worry and curiosity was itching underneath her skin, but she controlled herself and just sighed. If he didn't want to talk about it, he didn't want to talk about it. She would wonder, but she wouldn't press. Too much. She would bring it up again later, maybe.

For now, she just put on a smile for him. "Yeah, we should," she agreed. "But hang on, let's get some flowers, too."

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

It was getting very difficult to keep the smile on her face. She was doing her best, but even she had her limits. Her chest felt hollow and her heart was heavy; her smile was wilted, and if Shaun was looking at her closely, he probably would have been able to see how fake it was. But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at what was in front of her; they both were. And in response, the tombstone was staring right back at them. She'd read over the engraving about fifty times since they'd gotten there. There wasn't much else to do, considering the silence they'd both taken to.

'Steve Murphy. Wonderful son. Loving brother. Gone too soon.'

The years that were listed underneath were particularly painful to look at. To do the math and know how short a life Shaun's little brother had lived. She was purposefully trying not to dwell on them too much. Her heart tied in knots, she looked down at the ground. Lea had been the one to pick out the bouquet of flowers back at the store, and she had been touched that Shaun allowed her to be the one to place them down on the ground. It was a colorful contrast against the setting and the occasion— the lilies bright pinks, and whites, and yellows, and oranges. There wasn't a single gloomy color there. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing, or a bad thing.

Shaun had placed the book down beside her flowers, taking a moment to arrange it all perfectly. Now, they'd both withdrawn, and had just stood looking down in silence. After a while, it had begun to snow, but still, they did not move. Lea looked over at Shaun to see that once again, his eyes were beginning to shine over with water, and drifting away from the moment at hand. Disheartened, she looked back at the grave, and took in a slow breath. "It looks nice," she breathed, feeling a little stupid. Her words came out in a cloud of fog. Shaun said nothing. She hugged herself; she wasn't sure whether or not it was for warmth, or for comfort. "Was…that his favorite book?" she asked, looking down at the copy of 'To Kill a Mockingbird.'

"He never got to finish it," Shaun murmured, hardly able to be heard, even in the silence.

"Oh…" Her expression fractured in pain. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Shaun," she tried, her voice breaking. He shook his head a little aimlessly, as if to say 'What are you doing to do?' It didn't help; all the resignation did was break her heart even more. Again came the mantra that had been running through her head for ages, now. 'He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve this.' She reached up and wiped at her eyes before any of her tears could fall. Before Shaun could notice, if he hadn't already. "I bet…he was a fantastic brother," she offered weakly.

"He was," Shaun replied. "…I miss him."

She swallowed back a lump in her throat. "I know," she murmured. A little cautiously, she reached out and rubbed his back, trying to offer just the smallest bit of comfort she could. Shaun didn't move away from her, or shrug her off. But he didn't look up. "How about…" She broke off, and sniffed. "How about you tell me your favorite memory of him?" she prompted. "Something funny, or sweet? Something you'll always remember about him, no matter what?"

But the question only brought more agony into Shaun's expression. Lea watched his eyes well up with even more tears. "I'll remember everything about him," he croaked. "I don't want to forget anything." She cringed at her bad choice of words. "He was all I had. He said…when he grew up, he wanted to work with kids. He wanted to help them. But he never got to grow up." He shook his head again. If the tombstone and Shaun were having a staring contest, Lea wasn't all too sure which one would be winning. Maybe they would tie. "He shouldn't have died," he pressed, his voice hitching. "He should still be here."

Underneath the words, seemed to boil other emotions— palpable ones. Like anger, and rage, and hatred, and sorrow, and regret. Something other than just this quiet grief that he was holding to himself like armor. Throughout this whole thing, that was all it was. Whether he was speaking about his parents, or his dead brother, or they mess they'd abandoned back at Saint Bonaventure, his sorrow was subtle. He wasn't nearly as angry as he should be— as he had the right to be. He had all the right in the world to scream and curse and hate everyone that had ever harmed him. But he didn't. Because he was Shaun. Because he was better than that.

And somehow that hurt even more.

"I know," she murmured, her voice thicker than normal. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Shaun…" She hesitated for a moment, but took her hand off of his back and reached out instead to wipe at his cheek, brushing away a tear stain that was there. She did it gently, because she knew that he didn't like pressure, and she did it fast, because she wasn't sure whether or not he would appreciate the gesture in the first place. He looked over at her at the touch, finally breaking eye contact with the grave, and she let her hand drop back down to her side. He seemed to search her face, like he was looking for an answer there.

She didn't have one, though.

She just offered him a wounded smile that wouldn't go very far.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

The restaurant was a little crowded. They'd had to wait ten minutes for a table, and the clatter and conversation around them was probably just a hair away from being too irritating to withstand. All the same, though, Lea had showed Shaun the reviews for it, and suggested they give it a shot. Maybe the sense of adventure at testing out a new place would be a nice diversion from where they'd just come from. And so far it had seemed as though it was just the right fit for such a task. They made a big deal of critiquing the aesthetic, and she had encouraged Shaun to tell her how he would make it look if he was in charge. Lea had ordered a drink that was a bright purple, with a tiny umbrella on top and a cherry. Shaun had won the cherry, and Lea made a show of popping the umbrella up and down until it broke.

They had a table by the window and throughout their meal, they watched it snow outside; it was coming down harder now, and only picking up more. Lea hadn't seen it snow in ages, and her excitement seemed to have rubbed off on Shaun a little bit, because he seemed to have a little bit more light in his eyes than he'd had before. Maybe he wasn't happy, but he wasn't as downtrodden. They ate in between conversation, Shaun only picking at his plate again, like he was a bird. They thawed from their stay out in the cold, and they tried to talk so that their sorrow from before would melt as well. It wasn't easy at first, but the longer they went on, the easier it became.

Until suddenly, it relapsed about fifty steps. Lea was in the middle of telling Shaun another funny story from high school— this one was about the time the marching band was trying to vote on a new drum major and somehow it had ended with a full-on fistfight in the hallway between two tuba players. Shaun was listening in silent horror, like he'd done every time she talked about her high school. When suddenly, he'd stiffened. His eyes slid off to the side and caught on something there, and that same look of something close to fear he'd worn at the store had snapped over his face.

Lea frowned, and she twisted around in her seat. Sure enough, her eyes landed on the same woman that had been in the Wal-Mart. For a second, Shaun's paranoia seemed to catch up with her, and she wondered if the girl had followed them here. But she hadn't even glanced at them in the store, or noticed their staring, and she still didn't look their way, now. She was being led to a table that was set for two, though the other seat was vacant and there was nobody else in tow. She sat down and picked up the drink menu. Maybe she was waiting for her date to arrive, whoever that might be. Whatever she was doing, it certainly didn't seem to involve them. Which begged the question why in the world Shaun was looking at her that way. For the second time today.

Lea turned back, puzzled. Shaun caught her look and quickly stared back down at his plate of half-eaten food. He looked wildly uncomfortable. All the ground they'd gained in terms of mood was gone. She tilted her head to the side. "You okay, Shaun?" Obviously something was wrong, and it was something having to do with whoever this person was. "What's up with her?" she pressed, keeping her voice down, even though she was a few tables away and wouldn't be able to hear them over the rest of the noise.

Shaun kept his eyes down; if anything, at Lea's pestering, he grew even more on-edge. She noted this with a little bit of guilt. She had to stick to what she'd told herself before: she wasn't here to mess things up, or get more involved. If Shaun didn't want to tell her anything, then she couldn't yank it out of him. She had to respect him. Even if she was itching to know why that woman seemed to make him so nervous; if he didn't want her to know, then he didn't her to know. Lea knew this and she swallowed the pill as best she could. When Shaun didn't look at her, she just nodded her head and stuffed down her worries and her protectiveness. She looked back at her food and she ate another fry.

Shaun looked up again at her silent relent. His eyes flashed, and he shifted a little bit in his seat. Something in his expression changed, and to Lea's shock, he actually gave her an answer. Her head snapped up the second he started. "Her name is Colleen. Colleen Myers," he murmured. She didn't really find much useful information in the name, but to her relief Shaun was continuing on his own accord. Maybe he thought that after all Lea had done so far, she was privy to some more information. "I knew her when I was younger. We went to the same school."

She smiled. "That's nice," she offered, still trying to line up his reaction. "It…must be weird, I guess, to see her again," she attempted. "After it's been so long. I bet she'd be shocked to hear what you do now! You'd probably blow her mind! If you'd want to…talk to her? Don't worry about me; I'll give you a minute, if you want."

Shaun shook his head.

"Do you…want to tell me why?"

He paused. It was clear that more than half of him in fact did not want to. But after a heartbeat of more of deliberation, he caved, though he directed his eyes back down. "I almost kissed her, once," he announced. Lea's eyes lit up, and as smile was quick to spread wide over her face. Was it just a crush? Had he been so startled to see her because he'd liked her? That was adorable! "She was the only girl I've ever asked to kiss. I didn't ask anymore, after her." Her smile began to die a little bit with this, bordering more into uncertainty. He pressed his lips together, and he moved to straighten out his plate, even though it was pretty much already aligned. "She said she thought I was cute. She didn't."

Lea's smile was gone now. She sat up a little bit straighter in her chair. Her expression began to harden and steel over. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice already fostering the smallest bit of an edge to it. The defensive anger was quick to flicker to life inside her chest, especially now after the last few days the two of them had shared. She couldn't help that it was so instantaneous.

Shaun sagged uncomfortably. He started to align his fork and his knife, too, to make them as even with one another as he could. "She asked if I liked her. She…took me behind the bushes and said she would kiss me if I pulled down my pants." She went rigid, her eyes widening and immediately flashing with pure anger. "I told her no. But her friends still came out and laughed at me anyway. It was a trick. They wouldn't listen when I told them I wasn't going to." He was still refusing to look at Lea; he looked completely miserable. "She said she would never kiss a creepy weirdo like me. Steve came and pulled me away…" He fell silent, and it was clear he was going to stay that way.

Lea was speechless for nearly a full minute, just staring at him and trying to wrap her mind around what he was saying. She turned and looked back at Colleen. The other half to her party still hadn't shown up. Before, Lea had only felt curiosity when she looked at her. Now, she was almost surprised at the sheer amount of anger and rage she felt, instead. Shaun had dealt with so much as a child, and now there was yet another layer to it all: dumbass kids like that girl back there that had tormented him, too. How deep did this go? What else could possibly have happened to him?

"Did she ever apologize?" Her voice was flat. Shaun had lived in Casper for a very long time; she'd had years to come to her senses and say that she was sorry for pulling such a cruel prank. But when she turned back her to her friend, her anger was only multiplied when he shook his head once. "She never apologized? Not once? Ever?" she demanded. Still, he shook his head. She locked her jaw back, fuming now. She looked at the table and searched the wood surface intently, as if it could offer her instructions on what to do now. Eventually, she gritted her teeth and shook her head. "Okay. Yup." She turned and she fished out her wallet. She snagged out thirty dollars, and put it on the table, figuring that would be enough, and then a little bit leftover for a tip. "We're leaving. C'mon, Shaun."

He sagged with relief, and that just made her even angrier. If such a thing was even possible.

She was done. She was so fucking done. The emotion must have been bubbling underneath the surface ever since he'd told her about his parents. Or maybe ever since they were in the car, and she'd heard his wounded but unsurprised: "He gave up on me." Or maybe it had started to bubble ever since she first saw him in his apartment, crying into his hands because he just didn't know what else to do. She didn't know when it had started, really, but now it was at a full boil. She was done seeing Shaun upset. She was done seeing him so distraught, when he deserved all the happiness that this stupid goddamn world could offer.

She was angry at the cards that Shaun had been dealt. She was angry that he had had to try so hard to play a full game of poker with a shitty hand, and despite his efforts, it still wasn't enough to get him what he truly deserved. No, she wasn't angry about that. She was pissed. She was pissed, and this was just the last Jenga block that had needed to be pulled out, to have her tower come crashing down. It might be an overreaction, for this one little thing. But it was just because it had all been building, and Lea couldn't stand underneath it anymore. She couldn't stand feeling helpless and just watching Shaun break and crumble. She couldn't stand just leaning over and wiping his cheeks, because that was the only thing she could do.

It wasn't the only thing she could do. Not with this.

She turned and she marched away from their table without warning. Shaun scrambled to rush after her, though when she didn't head for the exit, his steps began to slow with uncertainty. And he stuttered to a full stop when she turned to veer for Colleen's table. He froze mid-step, watching her with tense alarm and confusion. The look on his face was probably close to the expression someone would wear if their friend had suddenly turned to them and said: 'Hey, watch me stick this three-hundred foot landing.'

Lea kept walking even when Shaun didn't, until she came to a stop at Colleen's table. She was wearing the kindest smile she could possibly draft, and it only grew wider when Colleen looked up with a tiny frown. "Hey," Lea greeted in a chirp. She was attempting to make sure that the anger itching underneath her skin wouldn't leak through to the surface, but in the process, she probably came off sounding much too friendly. Oh well. She could care less, at this point. "You're Colleen Myers, right?"

The woman straightened, glancing around in a bit of befuddlement. "Yeah, yeah, I am…" she murmured, her eyebrows pulling together a bit. "I'm sorry, I don't…have we met before?"

"I'm Lea," she introduced herself sweetly. "You don't know me, but I just had a really quick question for you, if you could spare the time." She couldn't remember the last time she'd talked to someone as polite or as upbeat as this as this. It was her 'Customer Service' voice. How fitting, because she also despised customers with a passion.

Colleen eyed her warily and offered a nervous smile. It was as much an agreement as any, and she was willing to take it. Lea leaned over so that she was propping herself up on the table. She tilted her head to the side. "Do you happen to remember a kid named Shaun Murphy?" she asked, looking for that recognition to flash through her eyes. But it took about three seconds for the other to track down the name. Lea was put off even more at the fact that this person didn't even have the decency to remember what she'd done.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Yeah, yeah I do remember him!" Lea tensed when Colleen stifled the smallest of giggles. "Yeah, we went to school together. Gosh, that was such a long time ago."

"Mhm," she growled, a bit of her friendliness decaying away now. "I'm a friend of his. I know him. He lives down the hall from me, in our apartment complex." She noted that Colleen's eyes sparked with surprise. Dryly, she could imagine the astonishment that must have occurred as a result. She could just imagine what she wasn't saying: 'Oh! He lives in an apartment? By himself?' She'd come here to chew her out and say something, but now the urge to punch her was getting way too strong. "He's actually one of my best friends," she continued, her voice just as thin. After all of this, certainly she'd graduated to that level, right? She'd put a pin that topic for later. "He's a surgical resident at a hospital in California, actually; he's saved about ten lives so far, and that's just the ones that I know about."

Colleen's eyes flew wide. Lea might as well have slapped her across the face. "R-Really?" she asked. Her voice was about two octaves higher, now. Again, that awkward smile started to come back to life. "Are you…sure we're talking about the same person?" she asked, and Lea pushed herself back off the table at the inquiry, sticking her tongue hard into her cheek as she straightened up. Her eyes were practically bristling with barely-held-in indignation. "I'm sorry, it's just— he wasn't…"

"Wasn't what?" she asked, harsher now. The hostility obviously took Colleen by surprise. As well as some of the people sitting around her. Heads were starting to turn. "Smart? Capable?" Her smile held nothing but contempt, now. "Did you take the time to even get to know him before you just decided that?" As if to accentuate the question, she drummed on the table as she asked this. "You know, I'd let it slide if you thought that way as a kid, but it's honestly disgusting that you still think that way. About anyone, but especially about him. But I'm not surprised." Colleen was growing defensive now, and glaring at her in a look that was half anger, half shame. But she only had a right to one of those halves. "He told me about the trick you pulled when you were younger. How you told him you would kiss him only after he took off his clothes, just so your friends could come over and laugh in his face. Do you know how absolutely fucked up that was? And how fucked up it is that you haven't said that you're sorry to him?"

Before the details, it seemed as though Colleen had no idea what in the world she was talking about. But afterwards, her expression cleared just the smallest bit, and that recognition was right where it belonged. Where, in Lea's opinion, it should have been from the very first instant she'd heard his name. Her audience was growing, now, and she could see a few people beginning to glare and murmur. "Oh…" Colleen's forehead creased, and she glanced down at the table. Lea waited with a pinched look of anger. "Well— we were all just kids," she started to excuse. "None of us really know what we were doing." Lea scowled. "It was a long time ago; we were just being stupid. You know how children are." The brunette's eye twitched. "We were just having fun. I actually forgot about it, it was so—"

"Aw, that's great!" she gushed, cutting her off. "That's great you forgot about it! But here's the thing: Shaun didn't." The last two words were flat and hard. Her eyes narrowed, and she dropped the friendly atmosphere entirely now, as she took to just glowering at her instead. "And here's another thing: you're an asshole," she spat. Now they were really getting some attention. "You think you would have grown up a little bit from when you were like, what, twelve? At least I hope you were twelve!" She shook her head. "You're absolutely gross, that you would take someone who had never been anything but nice to you and throw him under the bus in front of all of his classmates in the most disgusting way possible. Knowing for a fact that he wouldn't be suspecting at all. That's really gross. And it's even grosser that you never once apologized to him; even now, when I'm calling you out myself, you don't look a bit sorry.

"Shaun's fantastic— he's always been fantastic. And you would have known that if you'd taken the time to get to know him, rather than just make a stupid, unfounded judgement on who he was," she went on in a rush. By now, the waitresses were edging towards her, clearly intent on intervening. But she'd finish here before they could get the chance. Colleen was staring at her like she was a deer in headlights. Lea got an obscene rush of happiness at the humiliation that was coming over her face. If she couldn't get a resolution one way, she would get it the other— by calling her out for everyone to see. She'd embarrassed Shaun in front of a group of her friends? Lea would embarrass the shit out of her in front of this entire goddamn restaurant. "He's doing things every single day that you couldn't possibly imagine, or even begin to understand. He's smarter than you'll ever be, he's more successful than you'll ever be, and more importantly: he's a much better person than you will ever be, if this has anything to say for your moral grounds."

Colleen began to flare up, her eyes narrowing just a bit. "Now hang on just a second, this whole thing was a long time ago," she said, her voice regaining some of its strength. "And who are you to come here and make a scene about something you weren't even involved in!? Yeah, it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but nobody got hurt because of it! Nothing happened!" Lea's hands balled into tight fists as she recalled the look on Shaun's face when he'd seen her this morning, and just now at their table. At the discomfort and embarrassment and sorrow that should be on Colleen's face— not his. "It was just a stupid prank that we pulled in high school— I'm sure you can't claim to have had a good head on your shoulders when you were that age!"

"But to look at him and think even for a second that what you were doing was okay, was completely—!"

"Lea." The voice was soft, but it was steady. She whirled around, expecting to see a waitress ready and waiting to pull her out of the restaurant. If she had her wits about her, she would have realized how silly that assumption was. The waitresses wouldn't know her name. Her face fell when she turned only to see Shaun standing behind her, a hand reached out as if to take hold of her wrist like he'd done this morning. He looked more than a little bit uncomfortable. He was purposefully refusing to look at Colleen; his eyes were not straying from Lea. "I want to leave," he pressed, speaking lowly and more than aware by now that everyone was looking at them. "It's not worth it."

Her heart sunk at the look that was on his face. But his words just lit another spark in her chest, and she shook her head. "It's worth it to me, Shaun," she objected. She turned back to Colleen, who was staring at him now with wide eyes. "Apologize," she growled, jabbing a finger in his direction. Colleen said nothing; she looked absolutely stricken. Lea repeated her words louder, closer to a shout. "Apologize to him!" she yelled. Shaun flinched away from the cry. She would have felt bad. But she was too driven to finish this, in any way she could. Lea couldn't fix all of his problems. But she could fix this one thing. "You embarrassed him in front of all his classmates for absolutely no fucking reason, when you had no idea what he was dealing with himself, so just look him in the eyes, and tell him that you're fucking sorry!" she shouted.

"Miss, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," one of the waitresses said, starting over to her with a bit of a frown.

Colleen was still silent, just staring at them, overwhelmed, and that's where Lea drew the line. She lashed out, unthinking, and grabbed the glass of water that had been set out on the table. The waitress had only a split second to realize what was going on, but she only got out the start of her 'No!' before Lea jerked out and threw the water directly into Colleen's face. She spluttered in surprise, looking down at herself in horror as Lea slammed the cup back down on the table. Shaun watched the scene unfold with an expression almost as startled as Colleen's. He looked at Lea in a mix of confusion and the smallest hint of something else. Lea wasn't looking at him, though. She was glaring, and waiting for the other woman, now drenched, to say something. Anything.

Her wrist was grabbed and she was pulled away from the table by the employee. "I am so sorry, ma'am!" the worker gasped, looking at Colleen in shock. The rest of the restaurant was staring at them in a similar manner. It was like someone had just switched on a particularly distressing episode of Days of Our Lives, and everyone had a front row seat. A pencil could probably be dropped in this place, and it'd be earsplitting. "We'll get napkins for you! We're so sorry! Do you want us to call the police?"

Police? Lea stiffened, a bit of her anger dissipating back into rationality as she looked at the emptied cup. Was throwing water on someone considered assault? It was water! She looked at Shaun, who met her distraught gaze with one of his own. He was stiff, his hands knitted tightly together. Were they both going to be in trouble with the police, now? One of them being wanted was bad enough! Her expression started to crumble into remorse as she looked at her friend, and she started to try and formulate some kind of apology. Like it would even matter by this point. She'd made a whole scene, just adding onto Shaun's embarrassment, and it hadn't even been worth it. "Shaun, I'm sorry, I just—"

"No." Lea stopped and turned to Colleen quickly, when the woman gave the soft rejection. The other waitresses had rushed over some napkins to her, and she was starting the useless venture of blotting herself dry. But she was looking between Lea and Shaun, and she shook her head. "No," she repeated. "Don't call the police. I— I deserved it." She cleared her throat and turned to Shaun. "Shaun, I'm…I'm sorry," she offered weakly. Lea watched with surprise, but a tiny hint of a smile tugged at the side of her mouth. "What I did to you back then – what we all did – was horrible. You didn't deserve it. I'm very sorry. Truly. It was wrong of me to do that to you. I regret it— I really do. If I could go back and change it, I would." She looked thoroughly contrite. Every syllable of her apology seemed to shake with shame and sorrow.

Lea sagged a little bit. She watched Shaun finally turn to hold Colleen's gaze. He seemed to sit with the apology for quite some time, almost like he wasn't sure whether or not he should take it, or whether or not it was actually genuine. Lea waited, tense, for whichever he would decide. But eventually, her friend gave the tiniest of nods. His expression lightened, in a stark contrast to what it had been since they had gotten here. Instead of the sorrow and the regret, there was the tiniest sense of a reprieve. Like his hundred pound weight had been reduced down to ninety pounds. Something that wasn't all that big, but maybe it was big enough.

"It's okay," he murmured. The acceptance was quick, but in the grand scheme of things, it was unsurprising that it was. She should have been anticipating it. "I forgive you."

Lea's eyes softened at her friend's unwavering compassion. So easily given.

It was far more than Colleen deserved.

But that was alright.

In terms of deserving, all that mattered was that Shaun had deserved this apology.

He deserved a number of them, really, but at least they'd managed this one.

It lifted Lea's spirits, and she was relieved to think that maybe it did the same for Shaun. The two were allowed to leave the restaurant without any complications with the police, and Lea left wiser for the fact that should she ever throw another glass of water at someone, she should be prepared to face the charges that would be waiting for her. Because apparently that was a thing. But they'd left— they'd left behind the building full of people that had been staring open-mouthed at them, and they'd left Colleen, burning with shame and struggling to dry herself off as best she could. They'd gotten back into Lea's car and shut the doors behind them.

Instead of driving off immediately, though, Lea just sat behind the steering wheel, staring straight ahead and coming to terms with what she'd done. Blinking a few times, she looked over at Shaun, who she found was already staring at her. She tried to discern anything she could from his expression. It was like trying to read Latin. All the same, she found her face breaking out into a smile, more reassuring now, and gentler.

There were probably a lot of things she could say, but only three words ended up coming out of her mouth. "Screw them, Shaun," she said softly, her smile growing wider. Shaun blinked, and seemed a little uncertain, but after a moment, he smiled too. She raised her hand up from her lap and held it up. Thankfully he registered the gesture, and he mimicked her to reach out and give her a high-five. It was more of a tap, than anything else. And for a moment afterwards, as if in solidarity, their hands lingered together, in midair.

Until she smiled at him one more time, and took her hand back. Until she turned back front, to once again shift her car into drive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus concludes A Long Way Home! This chapter is officially the longest I've written for the TGD fandom so far-- copping in at a whopping twenty-seven pages. Hopefully it's enough, I had to fit quite a bit into it! Thank you to everyone who has been reading, and thank you for your lovely support and kind words. It really means a lot to me. Hopefully this chapter is a good enough send-off, and hopefully this story as a whole can at least hold a candle to whatever is in store for us on Jan 8th.  
> As always, if there is anything at all I can fix, I would be more than happy to! I apologize for any typos I may not have been able to snatch up. And as always as well, I hope you enjoy what I've written for you! <3

"Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Lea asked, studying the ceiling. "Order room service? Because I was hungry, and they had pizza!" She said this like the word 'pizza' could have been substituted with 'diamonds.' It was kind of true in a way. Diamonds were great and all, but they couldn't amount to the love she had for Italian flatbread. They were sitting in the hotel room, the food arranged on the floor between them. Shaun was sitting against one the beds, and Lea was just laying on her back, eating her slice like an emperor ate grapes in all those old cartoons. The TV was on, but neither of them were paying attention. They'd been talking the night away, and only now had the conversation drifted.

"No," Shaun murmured. "With Colleen. Why did you do that?"

"Oh!" She should have assumed that's what he meant in general; it wasn't every day you got to fulfill the dramatic dream of throwing water on someone in front of an entire restaurant of people. And in a fashion good enough to win an Oscar, probably. But at the same time, she hadn't thought the explanation was really needed. "Because she's a bitch," she stated. Shaun looked down at her with faint disapproval, and she made a pouty face at him. "Well, she is, Shaun, sometimes you just have to say it." It didn't seem to be a good enough elaboration for him. She sighed and moved to push herself up, putting her pizza down and dropping her playful mood, too, while she was at it. "Because I was sick of not being able to help you," she confessed in more of a sigh.

"You have been helping me," Shaun argued. "You brought me here. And you keep me company."

She hummed under her breath. "Yeah, I guess, but…I meant I was sick of not being able to help you with anything that's happened in general." She looked at him, her expression mournful. "I mean…there's some things that neither of us can do, which sucks. But you're my friend and it just bothers me that there's nothing that can be done. Like…I can't bring your brother back. Or…make your parents regret how they treated you. I can't make your problems at work disappear; I can't give you a better childhood. I can't do any of that. But I want to do all of them, because you deserve all those things. You deserve everything you could possibly ever get, Shaun, and it just really sucks to know that you're sad, and it's out of my hands." She shrugged. "With Colleen, it wasn't entirely out of my hands. I couldn't take away what she did, but I could make her feel bad about it. So, I did."

"It still happened. Why does her feeling bad about it change anything?" Shaun asked.

"Because now you know it's not just you who will look back at that day and feel horrible about it," she tried. "She was a stupid kid— they all were. And they just didn't know how awesome you were because their heads were too far up their own asses to see anything else." Shaun didn't seem to be a fan of her language. If she wasn't so stressed out, maybe she would make a note of that. Right underneath the note about him not liking pickles, or underneath the one about him not appreciating the joke "How many surgeons does it take to screw in a lightbulb?"

Four. One to actually screw it in, three others to stand around and say how much better they could have done it.

She hesitated for a moment, trying to decide whether she should go on, and attempting to scramble together the courage to. When she eventually did, she was quieter than usual. "Shaun…you have no idea how much I respect you." The surprise in his eyes at the confession made her heart tug in pain. "You've come from so much. And even when it was all a lot, and even when things are still a lot, because you're still dealing with people that don't think you're enough…you still keep yourself going, despite it. You're still so…optimistic. Somehow. That's crazy. And amazing."

Shaun didn't respond. Most likely because he just didn't know what to say. He stared at her for a moment like he'd never seen another human being before. Until he looked away, shifting to tuck a little tighter into himself. A few long moments of silence passed, in which Lea let him take in this sentiment and digest it fully.

After this stretch of contemplation, she softened and reached out to put a hand on his shoulder. "You're enough, Shaun Murphy," she reassured him. He didn't pull away from her touch, and when he turned back, and they locked eyes, she noticed once again that his were beginning to shine with tears. Before this, she'd never seen it happen once. Now, it was getting more and more normal to witness. She was slowly becoming desensitized, with every exposure. "You'll always be enough, just as you are. For anyone," she pressed. "Whether it's some stupid girl on the playground, or some helicopter president at a hospital. You really need to start understanding that. And don't you ever forget it."

His lips pressed together tighter. The tears built in his eyes, and he glanced at the ground.

She watched him in silence, discerning whether or not she had made things better or worse. She decided to play it more on the safe side. She lightened up and offered him a smile, tapping his shoulder again. "Plus, I've just really always wanted to throw water on someone," she added. "And she was like the perfect candidate. Literally, she should put it on her resume. I think it's her best quality." She smiled even more, and her words dissipated out into giggles. Shaun lifted his gaze up from the floor and back to her; he seemed more confused than anything. But her laughter was infectious, and he started to smile as well. Before too long, he even started to laugh a little bit with her.

For the first time, it occurred to Lea how the situation might have looked to someone on the outside looking in, and she found she couldn't stop laughing. It must have come way out of left field for anyone who hadn't known about the conversation, and for the people who found it entertaining, they were probably disappointed she and Shaun hadn't gotten arrested on the spot. For splashing someone. Which really would have given them a surefire story to tell in prison to win themselves respect.

'Don't mess with her. She threw water on someone when she was going out to lunch.'

She bent over at the waist and laughed even harder. It wasn't really all that funny; but in such a high-stress situation, once relief was found, you were always more than reluctant to let go of it. So, she laughed for a little bit longer than she needed to, and she laughed a little bit louder than normal. She pictured Colleen's face when the water had first hit her, and, in between sharp gasps, she cackled that whoever her date had been that had been coming to meet her would probably agree that the look was an improvement. She could see Shaun's shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter, and it only made her crack up even more. Her sides started to ache.

She kept laughing. Until she realized that the noises coming from Shaun had morphed and mutated— that they weren't giggles anymore, if they had even been giggles in the first place. That, without warning, his gasps had grown sharper, and his exhales had become heavier and thicker. She broke off abruptly and looked to him in alarm, to see that he was crying, his head hung. Tears were rushing down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe them away. It blindsided her, to see. For a second, she could only stare at him open-mouthed as he broke down again, sobbing silently. Her smile was gone, and so was the warmth in her chest. In fact, the instant she could actually register the change, she felt ice cold.

Like a computer that had changed gears too quickly, she had to buffer in order realize what was going on, and what she should do. But once it clicked, she acted without thought. Lea quickly shifted over to him, putting her back against the bed as well. She reached out and put her arms around Shaun's shoulders, and she pulled him close. It only occurred to her once she did, that it might be the exact opposite of what she should have done— that he might not want the proximity, and that this would just make things worse. He never liked much contact in general.

She stiffened as the realization dawned, and she was just about to release him and craft up some kind of alarmed apology. But, instead of shoving her off of him like she expected, Lea was struck with a second blow of surprise when Shaun only turned into the embrace. He twisted around and, whether it was a conscious decision or not, his head found her shoulder, to bury away against. He didn't reach back to cling to her like she was to him. He didn't hug to her and find support that way. But he wasn't rejecting her help, or scooting away. He was taking her comfort without hesitation.

Her chest yawned in pain as her shoulder began to wet with his tears, and she was shaken with the restrained sounds of Shaun's sobbing. But she bit down on her lower lip and she steeled herself as best she could. She sidled even closer and reaffirmed her hold on her friend, hugging gently to him with just enough force to let him know she was there. She said nothing; she just let him cry, knowing that he needed it. She just listened to his confusion, his regret, his grief, and his frustration. Staring straight ahead and trying not to blink so she too would not break down.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

This time, she answered the call.

"Hello?" She had been playing on her phone as a distraction, when the incoming contact had interrupted her. When she'd glanced over at Shaun, who was fast asleep, and agonized over what she should do. When she'd resolved, and gotten up to slip silently out the door, to stand in the hallway and talk in a low whisper. She had no idea who this person was; to be honest, it could be a random telemarketer, for all she knew. And all the guilt and anxiety currently swirling in her stomach could end up being for absolutely nothing. But she was a pretty good gambler when she wanted to be, and she'd be willing to put money on the fact that she wouldn't get off as lucky. Not with the streak she'd had lately.

Never before did she think she'd find herself wishing that there was a robot trying to sell her car insurance on the other line.

"H-Hello?" The stutter alone was enough to get the point across that whoever this was certainly hadn't been expecting her to pick up. But the shock thrilling through their voice was there to beat her over the head, should she have overlooked that first detail. It seemed the telemarketer was off the table. It was a girl's voice, and Lea was almost grateful for that. It let her narrow things down. If it was still someone that had been trying to contact Shaun in the first place, a girl's voice meant that it was either Claire or Carly. She had a fifty-fifty shot at guessing who it was she was finally confronting. "You answered this time," the other person stated, obviously shell-shocked that she hadn't gotten yet another dial tone.

Which was just as well, because Lea had about like fifty voicemails that all said the same thing.

"I did," she replied, her voice probably tarter than it really needed to be. "Who's this?"

"This is Claire Browne; I work with Shaun at St. Bonaventure," she introduced herself, still sounding a little unsure that this was actually happening. "I-I don't know what exactly is going on right now, but—"

"Well, I don't think it's that complicated." She was being too harsh, probably, but after Shaun's last episode, she was deserving of it. After this whole thing, really, she was deserving of it. And the fact that it was ten to midnight, and she was going behind Shaun's back, only made her temper shorter. So she wasn't about to feel too bad about her sharpness. "Shaun felt like he had absolutely no one back at San Jose, so he left. Your Doctor Glassman was shoving a therapist down his throat for some reason, and apparently you awesome doctors of the surgical team are too good for him." She was glaring at the wall across from her.

Until this moment, she hadn't realized how ugly the wallpaper was, out here. It was truly unfortunate.

"E-Excuse me?" Claire stammered. Her voice held the ghost of an edge, after Lea's implications.

"I don't think you saw him," the brunette pressed. "And if you did see him, then he must have been exactly right when he was telling me about you guys." She shook her head. "When he came home, he was the most upset I've ever seen him. He was so upset I couldn't even get him to talk about what was wrong until about six hours later, when we were halfway into Nevada. I asked why he was so quick to leave everything behind, and you want to know what he said? He said that nobody at work respected him, and that you would be glad if he never came back at all. He said you and Jared would be glad to be rid of him, and that he was tired of trying to catch up to you two just because your boss hated him."

There was a beat of silence. Claire's voice was softer when she managed to pick up all the pieces of information that had just been shoved at her. "Melendez doesn't hate Shaun," she objected. She sounded like she was choosing her words with care. "In fact, ever since Shaun's left, Melendez has been beside himself. He blames himself a lot for what happened— he's tried to call you two once or twice, I think. Or he said he did, when I asked him. Melendez doesn't hate Shaun at all, and Jared and I have been worried sick about him ever since we heard that he was gone, and that he wasn't answering his phone. He's just as much a part of the team as we are – were, I guess – and…and we just want him back, we just want to talk to him…" She was getting more and more upset the longer she spoke. "We want to clear all of this up."

"I don't think he's ready to talk to anyone yet," Lea reasoned. "He's…been going through a lot recently."

"But is he okay?" Claire demanded.

She bit down on her lower lip. She glanced over her shoulder to their door. "I don't know," she sighed, being brutally honest. She was losing grip of her anger, now. Or maybe she was just tired of holding onto it for so long. "He's safe, if that's what you're asking. We just came down here because it's where he wanted to go. He said he was leaving, and I offered him a ride, so he wouldn't be alone. But…he's been upset. Really upset. I've done my best to help him, and sometimes I think it's enough…but sometimes I don't." She watched her shoe drag over the carpeting of the hallway. She started to trace out circles, for something else to focus on. When she continued, her voice was harder, and it came with a bit more warning. "You have no idea the kind of stuff he's been through. I don't care if your boss meant it or not; Shaun felt looked down on by him, and by Glassman too, and you have no idea how much that's set everything off."

"I'm sorry," Claire burst, and the way it was said left no room to wonder whether she meant it. "I'm so sorry— I know things haven't been easy, but I didn't think that they had gotten that bad for him; he never said anything— not to us. I actually thought things were getting better. He never even made it seem like anything was wrong. And maybe he shouldn't have had to, but…but we never knew what Glassman was doing, and…" There was a small sigh. "Glassman feels terrible about everything, too. When I see him in the halls, it's like I don't even recognize him, and the team is— everything is just…"

"It's a mess." Lea was losing her edge, now, more and more. It was melting away like ice underneath the sun.

"Yeah." The reply was merely an exhale. "It is. This whole thing is a mess, and I just— I just want to apologize, because if I'd just been paying more attention, maybe I could have helped. If Doctor Coyle just hadn't—" She huffed out another breath of air. When she picked up again, her voice was faster, and in more of a rush. "Look. When I started this residency, I didn't think I would ever be where I am now. I thought it would just be a normal program, and it was, at first, but— but I didn't think any of what's happened lately would happen to me. And for a while it was weird, and it was strange, and— and Shaun was strange! And the dynamic was strange, but— but now it's changed entirely.

"When I started this residency, I wanted to be the person," she said, her words hitching. "I wanted to be the person to be asked what to do, and I wanted to be the person that my boss would look to when he needed help. And…and now I have that, because Jared is fired, and Shaun's missing…now that I have it, I don't want it." Lea frowned, staring a hole through the door now, wishing that Shaun was standing beside her, and the phone was on speaker. "I want Jared here to say some stupid joke that I tell him isn't funny, but really it kind of is. And I want Shaun here to not laugh at all when he tells those jokes, and I want him here to tell me I'm doing something wrong, or say something to the patient that's completely weird but extremely important in the next five minutes.

"I want Shaun here to see what everyone else misses, and I want him here to eat lunch with me and tell me when I'm being ridiculous. And I want Jared here to hang out with, and I want him to keep me company when a patient is being stupid, or uncooperative. I'm the person Melendez looks at now just because he has no other option, and that's not what I wanted. I wanted to earn that position, not just be the last resort. None of this is what I wanted, and I just want them back— I want to be a part of the team again…" Lea wondered whether her ears were being tricked, or if Claire was crying. Or at least trying not to cross that line. "Please tell me where you went," she pleaded. "If nothing else, and if Shaun won't talk to me, then just tell me where you went."

Lea knew where this was going. Just like she'd had an inkling of what would occur once she texted that Carly girl. The moment she told Claire where they were, it was likely to spread through that hospital like smoke, just like her number had. It would only take one of those worried friends to cut the cord and come all the way down here…right? Standing the hotel hallway, miles and miles away from San Jose, with Shaun sleeping and completely oblivious to what she was doing, Lea was well aware that she held the key to this whole thing just ending right here. In the car, Shaun had made it seem like he was never going to go back to California; the entire time they've been here, he's never mentioned returning once.

If she gave this information out, then it didn't matter that Shaun wasn't going back to California; California would come find him, instead.

She didn't have the right to make that call. Did she?

Was there a line? Was there a point where even she had to step back and realize that things were going on too long? That they had gone too far? Her stomach twisted as she thought back to Shaun just hours ago, going from laughing to sobbing in less than a millisecond. When would she know that this wasn't helping? It wasn't her place to decide, surely? Where was her place, in all of this, then? She was the chauffer; nothing more. So who was she to pull this cord? Would she be a friend, taking care of Shaun and helping him to take the needed step in healing all of this? Or would she be the traitor that would take his trust, already so fragile and broken from Glassman, and just shatter whatever was left?

She agonized for what felt like ages, though it couldn't have been more than a couple of seconds. And, coming to her tipping point, the word escaped her mouth before she could even really anticipate it happening. "Wyoming."

"Wyoming?" Claire repeated, her voice lighting up immediately with the surrender. "You're in Wyoming? Why?"

"We've been in his hometown for the past couple of days," she said. Strange, at the time frame. It seemed like they'd been here for months. "We're in Casper."

"Casper…" Claire murmured, and that was when Lea knew they were screwed. That she had single-handedly given them away, when that could have been the last thing that Shaun wanted. Or needed. That if someone went so far as to come all the way over here to see him, and if it threw him back off the deep end, it would be her fault and her fault alone. The knowledge was a weight on her chest, but she did her best to breathe around it.

She had done this entire thing on a whim. How fitting that she ended it the same way.

"Please, just…" Lea wasn't entirely sure what she was meaning to put at the end of her beg. "Look, I'll be the first to say that I'm worried about him, and I'm worried that for this situation specifically, running away and staying away might not be the best option. Just because he deserves an apology, and I think if he got that, it'd at least help a little bit. With a lot of things." She took in a slow breath. "But I'll also be the first to say that, at least right now, he's still really upset, and I'm not entirely sure that if he sees any of you, that that apology will do much good. I'm not sure which would do more harm. I don't know what you think would happen if someone came up here, because I'm not even sure what I think would happen. And I think from that alone…it just shouldn't." If it was even a possibility. Weren't doctors supposed to be really busy, anyway? And needed? Could they leave, at the drop of hat? Just like that?

"Lea…this can't go on for much longer," Claire objected, to her slight surprise. Or maybe not. Deep down, from the very second that Lea offered to take him here, she'd known that. She'd thought it. And the thought had only grown more and more in strength— when she was looking at him in the bus, when she saw him break down and cry. No; this couldn't go on for much longer. She knew that. But knowing it yourself, and hearing someone else say it aloud, were two very different things. "Everyone here is worried…we need him back…and Glassman is— he's—"

"He's most at fault," Lea interrupted, surprising herself with how acidic her voice turned.

"And he knows that," Claire replied, gently. "He knows that. And it's killing him, Lea."

Lea pressed her lips together tightly. She closed her eyes.

"We all have a piece in this," Claire murmured. "And I really want to fix it. I want things to go back to normal, Lea; that's all anybody wants. Isn't that what you want?" Lea said nothing, but the answer was there, in her silence. She did want things to be normal. She didn't hate this entirely— she liked being with Shaun; she liked driving with him and hanging out with him. Even if he woke her up at night to tell her to stop snoring— even if he told her that she looked ridiculous in pretty much anything she wore, for some reason she couldn't quite discern. But she didn't like everything else. She didn't like the heavy silences, or looking at every plate of food Shaun had, only to see it half-gone, because he couldn't stomach anything more. She hated waking up and seeing that he'd already been awake for hours, because he couldn't sleep. She hated seeing him cry, and she hated the look he'd get on his face at times, and the way he would stare off into space, as if he wasn't really there.

She did want things to be normal again. She wanted to poke her head out into the hallway and grin at him walking by. She wanted to hear him talk about his job, and marvel over all the fantastic things he did on a daily basis. She wanted to see him smile, completely unhindered. She wanted to have him be the way he used to be. That was all.

Claire seemed to hear all of this in her silence.

All Lea heard in Claire's, though, was a certain finality she was not prepared to face.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"Are they still there?" Lea asked softly, peering through the windshield.

"I don't know," Shaun admitted.

The two were sitting in Lea's car. Some ways away from where they were parked, stood a house that Shaun had willingly given her directions to. His old house. They hadn't seen anyone come in and out of it, and the cars that were in the driveway weren't that helpful in discerning whether the residents were in fact Ethan and Marcie Murphy. They'd been sitting here for some time, waiting. Shaun hadn't made a move to just get out of the car and knock on the door; Lea wasn't going to suggest it. This was fine. And it gave time, most likely, for Shaun to figure out what he was going to say or do when they did find out whether his parents were still taking up residence here.

If he even was planning on doing anything, that is. Lea had not asked.

They waited, the car growing colder and colder without the heater to provide any protection. The silence was crushing, but this time Lea wasn't brave enough to break it. She didn't know what she would say, even if she was. She felt like she was on the other side of the road, watching Shaun try and deal with the aftermath of some horrible car accident. She felt his pain, and she wished she could help him. But the traffic was too bad; she was stuck where she was, and all she could do was watch. She sighed and kept her eyes on the house, looking for any kind of movement, even. So far, there'd been none. The property may as well be inhabited by ghosts.

Maybe that wasn't too far off a guess.

"The house looks the same," Shaun murmured eventually. Maybe just to say something.

The way he said this, Lea wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

She hesitated for a long moment, trying to reach for something to say that would be safe. Something that wouldn't hurt, or make things worse. But at the declaration, after the initial speedbump of sorrow it inflicted, a wistful smile traced its way over her lips. Affection edged her voice when she replied. "My childhood home never seems to change, either," she mused. "It always looks exactly the same, no matter how long it's been. All my things are in their same spots in my room…my mom still always has those stupid bowls full of mints that nobody eats. My dad sits in his same chair every night. Same Christmas decorations, same Halloween ones…"

There was a full minute of silence before anything else breached it. Lea was too distracted for the time being; she was thinking of old holidays, and sporting events. Of birthday parties and vacations. Of coming back home every so often and being met with open arms and shouts of "It's been too long!" or "You've gotten so tall!" But she was thinking about each with a small frown. She'd had a great life; a great family. They were obnoxious sometimes, and they got on her nerves. But every family did that, at some point. All around, they were good. Her life was good. Her memories were.

Shaun didn't have that. He didn't have photos on his phone of family selfies, or portraits. He didn't have funny stories to tell about his mom or his dad. He didn't have a place to run home to for the holidays, and people to hug that he hadn't seen in a long time. He didn't have a dad to go to for advice, and he didn't have a mom to call when he'd had a bad day and needed someone to talk to. There was nobody to brag about him and his achievements, even though he had so many. He didn't have any of what she did. And suddenly, the fact that she had those memories to think back to in the first place seemed horribly sad and unfair.

"There's a difference," Shaun notified her suddenly, and a little randomly. She jumped, when he sliced through the quiet a second time. And she turned, looking to him in confusion. "In the words," he elaborated, once he saw the puzzlement on her face. "While the words 'house' and 'home' have the same technical definition, there is usually a difference in connotation between the two. 'House' is usually taken at face value, to mean the building. And the word 'home' usually implies a sense of belonging. And family." He paused, before he turned away from her again. Back to the building they'd been watching for the past fifteen minutes. "I don't think this was my home," he all but whispered.

She wilted. "You…don't?"

"No. I think the bus was my home. With Steve. It was a smaller house…but it was a better home. A happier one," he replied. "It was small, and we didn't have money. Sometimes we didn't have food. But we had each other. We were happy, there. It was more of a home than this was. In the connotative sense."

She followed his gaze, her eyes crowded in thought. A few moments passed before she forced herself to ask: "Is…San Jose your home, now?" Shaun looked as though he hadn't anticipated the question. "I know a piece of you might always stay back here, with Steve. But…if I asked you where your home is now, would you have an answer? Different than the bus?" She remembered what he'd said before. How he couldn't stay anywhere. Did that mean that he'd wanted to stay in San Jose, and just thought he couldn't after this? "You have people there that care about you…I mean, just look at your phone. You have a job, where you help people…and you have me. I know it's a little bit of a mess right now, but…isn't all that good enough to be considered a home?"

Shaun frowned. He hesitated for a long stretch of time. And when that time was up, he didn't even have a good answer. "I don't know."

She nodded and let it drop. Shaun seemed to appreciate it. He was looking at the house intently, but almost absently at the same time. He tended to do this a lot: look sidetracked, and grow quiet. Lea had learned to let it run its course, by now. It just meant that when he did talk again, Lea was immediately paying attention. "Am I like him?" he asked. The words were small, and hardly there. Lea had to strain to even hear.

She didn't know what he meant. "Like who?"

"My father." She stiffened at his clarification, and immediately sat more forward. Shaun wasn't looking away from the house, though. Her efforts to catch his gaze were futile. "Whenever he got angry, he would hurt me. He would hit me. I…hit Doctor Glassman, when he wasn't listening." She watched his eyes take on that remorseful gleam. His fingers curled in tightly to dig his nails down into his palms. "I'm like him," he choked out. "I hurt people too."

"Shaun, no!" She couldn't keep the astonishment out of her voice. It was saddening just to hear the fear in his voice, but seeing it on her friend's face inflicted a deeper kind of pain. "It's completely different! What happened then was a mistake; you said so yourself. It shouldn't have happened, yeah, but it was an accident! And you knew that the second it happened, I know you did. Your dad never felt bad about when— about when he would hit you. You're nothing like him at all." He seemed skeptical, even with the reassurance. She leaned over and put a hand down lightly on his arm. She wished he would look at her. "You made a mistake, Shaun; that's all this whole thing is," she murmured gently. "And mistakes can always be fixed. They're not permanent."

He took the solace without comment. But she wanted to be absolutely sure that he received it. "Shaun, it's so funny to me that you don't know how great you are," she said. Now he did look at her, but his stare was filled with confusion. "I mean, really! You're so amazing. In every sense of the word. You dealt with so much shit— shit that you're still dealing with, with people doubting you. It's so hard, and I can't imagine having to do any of it. But you dealt with it so well that you're a surgical resident at a hospital, now! And you're not bitter about anything, even though you have every right to be. You're patient, and you're sweet, and you're willing to help anyone and give anyone a chance, just because you know that's what they would want, because it's all that you want…"

He still said nothing. She weakened a little bit more, and her smile turned gentler. "You're not alone, Shaun. I told you that before, and I meant it. But…you know what? Even if you were alone, it wouldn't even matter. You'd be perfectly fine. Because you're amazing, all by yourself. You have everything you need. And I think the sooner you realize that, the easier everything else might be." She shook her head. "You're nothing like your dad. You're nothing like anyone. And that's what's so fantastic about you."

Shaun searched her face in silence. He turned and looked back at the house. His eyes flashed, and he looked down at his hands in his lap. She could practically see the thought writing itself over his face; she could see him trying to figure out what to do with her sentiment, and trying to see how it measured up to his own thoughts. For a long time, she allowed him to do this, before Shaun suddenly shook his head. "I change my mind," he mumbled. "I don't want to talk to them. Or see them." Lea was unsurprised. She'd almost been expecting the backtrack. Not in disappointment— not at all. But in understanding. They had no idea if his parents were still living here, and even if they were, confronting them was a lot to ask of anyone. She certainly wouldn't be able to do it, if she was in his shoes. Still, it looked like he expected her to be angry when he asked weakly: "Can we leave?"

She could see the regret on his face; she just met it with a sympathetic smile. "Of course, Shaun," she replied, already starting the car back up. Shaun relaxed, just like he always did when she complied with what he wanted. Her eyes went over to him as she started the car again, and she stopped a little short at the look that was there. That same look she'd seen when they'd been standing at Steve's grave. The one that betrayed him to the emotions that were bubbling underneath the surface. The ones that were even more foreign than the sadness that was plaguing him.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek. She checked the dashboard clock. "Hey, I have an idea," she announced, and Shaun snapped out of his reverie enough to look at her in curiosity. She was pulling out her phone again, and thumbing over to the Maps app, just like she had the first night she'd stumbled into this mess. The first night she'd reached down into the thick of things and grabbed hold of Shaun's hand, to try and pull him out. Here was another effort— another tug. A last-ditch, desperate effort that might not even go very far, or amount to absolutely anything.

Despite the gloomy thoughts, her smile was wide and cheery when she looked to her friend. "Let's go somewhere cool," she suggested.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

Lea straightened, her eyes flashing as they looked back up. She held the small thing in her hands, and once she levelled out to her target, her expression sharpened with concentration. Her tongue stuck out, and she pulled her arm back, making sure her aim was true. Before she jerked out and threw the snowball directly into the back of Shaun's head. It struck home, and she threw her arms into the air, letting out a whoop of victory the same moment that Shaun leapt into the air in shock, his arms flying to his hair and the snow that was now covering it. "Got you!" she shouted, rushing to catch back up to him as she giggled. "Bulls-eye!"

Shaun shot her a glare. All he did was brush the ice off himself with a sour look on his face.

"Aw, c'mon!" she laughed. "I haven't seen snow in forever, and you're going to rob me of this moment to absolutely beam you with a snowball!? You're so mean." The snow was coming down hard again. It was in her hair, and all over her jeans— the longer they walked, the worse it got. But it was actually kind of nice. It was freezing cold, and Lea had lost all feeling in her hands and feet about ten minutes ago…but it was nice. It was pretty, on the trail that they were hiking. Casper Mountain – aptly named, by the way, she really couldn't have done any better herself – was only a few miles south of Casper; it hadn't taken them long at all to drive here. To walk, however…well, they'd been going for quite a while.

This adventure had come with the purchase of snowshoes – at least on her part; Shaun hadn't warned her that she would need so much winter crap before they'd come – and a pass to let them hike. But it was worth it. The view itself was great; if you peered down the ridge, it looked like the entirety of Wyoming was stretching out in front of you. Before, Lea had thought that the state was pretty dull, and she'd wondered what the pull towards it was. But when you changed your viewpoint, and looked at it like this, the answer seemed to be a little bit more obvious.

"You're the one that threw a snowball at me; I'm not the one who's mean," Shaun argued, still dusting himself off.

She snickered. "Are you going to let me get away with it?" she challenged. Lea met his befuddlement with a smile, and she ducked down to the ground again, scooping together another ball to launch. Shaun's eyes widened, and he probably meant to duck out of the way before she had the chance to launch it, but he was far too late. She threw another one at him, and broke down into laugher when it hit his shoulder this time, and exploded all over his shirt. He threw her yet another disapproving look, but this time it was quick to weaken, and fracture into a grin. Especially with the fact that she was laughing so hard, herself.

She stuck her tongue out at him, and he leaned down, fumbling to make his own. She squeaked and turned, trying to take off in a sprint to get away. The snow was slicker than she anticipated, though, and the clunky boots made her even clumsier than she usually was. A feat that was actually very impressive. She ended up falling flat on her face, and the cold that slammed into her took her breath away for a heartbeat. She whipped her head up, ice stinging her face as she spluttered out about a mouthful of it. "Ack!"

Shaun had rushed over at the trip; now, he was standing beside her a little anxiously, the snowball he'd made just sitting in his hands. Lea sighed, and started to push herself up. If she was cold before, now she was ten seconds away from becoming an icicle. She was about to reach up for Shaun, expecting him to offer her assistance. When her friend suddenly just let his snowball fly, throwing it down so it hit her square in the face. The entire thing done without a shred of mercy in his eyes, or a beat of hesitation. She gasped, whirling around onto her back and wiping the ice off her face with a yelp. "Shaun!" she squealed. "What the heck! You can't just kick me when I'm down! You help me up, you don't throw the freaking snowball! And you don't throw it in my face! I'm gonna go blind!"

He frowned, and when she wiped enough snow out of her eyes to see, she realized that he'd stooped down to offer a hand. She blew out her cheeks, and reached up to accept the gesture. Her hand closed around his, and he started to lean back, to help her up to her feet. But the moment she grabbed hold of him, her other hand flew up to hold tight too, and she yanked as she possibly could. Lea stood up as she tugged him to the ground, and she collapsed into a fit of laughter when Shaun was left to literally imprint into the snow, and become half-buried.

"I'm sorry!" she crowed, not sounding sorry at all. Shaun's eyes were wide and huge when he scrambled up, and it made her laugh even harder. "I'm sorry, you just— oh my God!" He was absolutely covered in white; it was in his hair and his face, and it was all over his clothes. He looked more snowman than actual man. "You look ridiculous!" she laughed. "I mean, more ridiculous than normal, but— no!" Her insult was cut short when Shaun shot up to his feet, grabbing a handful of snow on his way up. He was starting to mold it into another ball, and the instant she realized this, Lea spun around, rocketing away, and this time managing to keep her balance. "No!" she cried out, laughter edging her drawn-out scream. "Stay away! Stop!"

A breathless smile was on her face when she heard Shaun crunching through the snow after her. She risked a glance over her shoulder just in time to feel another snow bullet hit her in the back. She screeched, and laughed when she saw Shaun already reaching down for another one. "Stop!" she laughed. "You're a doctor— don't you have some sort of oath!? You can't— hey, you can't hurt anyone!" she yelled, when she felt another snowball hit her. "I'm telling!" she snapped, yanking up her own handful of snow and smashing it into a halfway decent ball. Still running, she chucked it back to Shaun and felt a rush of satisfaction to see it hit home in his chest. "That hippo oath thing!" she yelled. "Isn't that what it's called!?"

The run/fight lasted a considerably long amount of time, given how long Lea could usually manage to run before she got too tired and just gave up. When it came to actual physical exercise, she was usually not the best at keeping regimented. By the time her legs were burning, and her lungs were stinging too much from all the cold air, both her and Shaun were near soaked from the melted ice and snow that had been flung back and forth. Lea was the first to slow down, and Shaun was quick to follow, though he was probably in better shape than her. Which wasn't an accomplishment; it was fairly easy to do. A five-year-old could probably out-bench her.

When Lea finally slowed down to a stop and bent over at the waist to catch her breath, she looked up to see that they had come to another outlook point. Another spot where the land dropped away to trees and ridges far below. Shaun stopped beside her, and he looked over the view in silence, giving her a moment to recover. "It's the Hippocratic Oath," he notified, after some time. Lea frowned and pushed herself back up to a standing position, getting some of her wind back. She must have looked confused, because he dipped his head and elaborated. "You called it the Hippo Oath. That's not its name. I didn't take an oath to protect hippos."

She raised her eyebrows. "Hmm." She coughed, looking back down at the valley below with a thoughtful expression. "Well…if you saw a hippo, and it was sick, would you try and help it?" she demanded.

He looked at her like she'd just asked if he could turn into a watermelon on command. He was silent for a total of about five full seconds. Until, not entirely sure what she wanted, he tried out: "Maybe?" Human anatomy and hippo anatomy weren't exactly interchangeable.

"I rest my case," she puffed. He still looked a little perplexed, but just followed her lead to look at the landscape. Probably more in the hope that if he did, she wouldn't ask any more weird questions. Her expression softened at the view they had. "This is great," she announced. "I really like this. Hiking, and seeing all this stuff…it puts things in a different perspective, kind of. It's cool." Shaun nodded, and she smiled at him. "Problems seem smaller, way up here." Then, she made a face. "And the oxygen level…" she mumbled more under her breath, still a little winded.

"Yes," Shaun agreed. His eyes flashed. "But we can't be up here forever," he pointed out.

Her smile wilted. She said nothing for a few long heartbeats before, a little hesitantly, she retaliated. "Well…we can't be in Wyoming forever, either, Shaun."

That was it: the statement they both had been avoiding ever since they'd gotten here. It was common knowledge between them – or at least she hoped it was – but it was common knowledge that had gone unspoken this entire time. As if not bringing attention to it would make it less infallible. Her friend said nothing, but by this point she could pick up on the silent clues that spoke for him. The tension that started to take hold of his shoulders, and the heavy look that came over his eyes. She was getting better at noticing them. But she kept going, anyway. "You know that, right, Shaun?" she asked. "Eventually we have to leave and go back to California. I have a job…you have a job— one that's way more important than mine. We have rents we have to pay. And we have people back home who are worried about us. Who are wondering where we are."

"You can go back." She was surprised at the finality of his response, and how quick it was to come. "I'm sorry if I took you away from California. If you want to go back, you can."

"I don't want to go back without you," she murmured. "I want to drive back the way we came: together."

He hummed in the back of his throat. He looked to the left now, away from her entirely. "I don't want to go back. I can't."

"Tell me why," she demanded. He didn't. The only sound was the wind around them. She swore that she could hear every single snowflake hit the ground. Little mallets in the heavy silence that reigned. "Is it because one stupid guy thinks you need a therapist?" she pressed. Shaun's eyes flashed again with this, but she was ignoring those little signs now. She'd been walking on ice this entire time, and her slow edging hadn't gotten her very far, yet. This was important. She had to keep going. She had to ignore the telltale sound of cracks. "Because he wants you to do something that you don't want to? Well, guess what Shaun? He's not you. And you're an adult. If you don't want something he does, then all you tell him is two simple words." She raised her hands in something of a surrender. "'Fuck off,'" she accentuated, emphasizing each word.

He shifted in discomfort. "…I can't," he murmured.

"Why not? It's not hard to say. And it'll get your point across," she urged. "Shaun. Are you going to let one person take everything you've worked for and make it all for nothing? Because they were being a selfish asshole? Like…I've never been though medical school, but I've heard rumors that it sucks. Like…it really, really sucks. Hardcore. You went through all of that – you did all that studying – and now you're just going to leave what you've wanted to do your entire life just because What's-His-Face thinks he knows what you need better than you do? Really?"

"It's not only that…" Shaun objected.

"What else, then?" she asked. "A boss that doesn't respect you? A boss that doesn't listen to you even though you've saved at least two people that he said were completely fine? Like that one girl— Martine? He said she was fine, and if it hadn't been for you, she'd be dead by now! Stuff like that has happened more than once! Shove those down his throat! You were right on them, and he was wrong! Don't let him forget for a single second! Because I'll put money down on the fact that it'll happen again! You've earned his respect ten times over, and if he doesn't give you it by now, then that just says a lot about him and nothing at all about you. If he doesn't listen to you, go straight to his boss! Let that guy chew him out!"

"It won't help…" he continued to fight.

"Why? Why wouldn't it help?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. When he said nothing, Lea took a step closer, and her eyes narrowed more. "That's not your problem, Shaun," she declared. "Your problem isn't that it can't be fixed, is it?" He glanced at her, his hands clasping together so tightly she could see the strain it caused. "So, what's your problem, Shaun?" she demanded. "Tell me." He averted his gaze. She shook her head and answered the question herself. "Your problem isn't that there's no way of fixing anything. Your problem is that these aren't issues that should need solutions. Am I right? You can fix them – you can deal with them – but you shouldn't have to. That's what's wrong, here, isn't it?" Still there was nothing, and she took in a quicker breath, stepping even closer. "Shaun!" she snapped. Her friendliness was gone. She was digging to the root of this, and she was doing it now. "Isn't that it?"

"Yes," he managed, his voice stiff as he still looked anywhere but her.

"Yes," she agreed. "And you're completely right. They aren't problems you should have. At all. You shouldn't have to deal with doubt and anything like that; you've proven yourself over and over again, and you've come from so much, and you're pissed off that you still can't get away from people that look at you differently!" He weakened, his shoulders curling inward a little bit. "That's what this is, Shaun. You're pissed the fuck off! And you're upset, and you have every right to be!"

She grabbed his arm, and she leaned over so that she could catch his gaze, if only for a moment. "But you know what else you have the right to be, Shaun?" she pressed. "A doctor. Because you earned that stupid degree. You passed those exams. You're a resident at that hospital, and there's not a single thing that Melendez can do about it. And anyone that can pass those exams and have enough smarts to be in a surgical ward doesn't need anything at all from any kind of life coach that can be offered, if they don't want one." She shook her head. "You're not a little kid that needs someone to tell you what to do, Shaun." When he only stared at her dismally, she asked: "Are you?"

"No…" he murmured.

"What?" she asked. "I can't hear you."

"No, I'm not," he said, a little bit louder.

"Not what!?" He jumped at her sudden yell, and she felt the smallest bit guilty. But she continued. "Come on, Shaun!" she pushed. "Say it! Say it, because you haven't said it yet at all! And you deserve to! You're not what!?"

"I'm not a child!" It was a tiny yell, but it was a yell all the same. He closed one eye in a wince when he cried this, but once it was out, he seemed almost surprised by the way he felt afterwards.

"Of course not!" she yelled, throwing her arms out at her sides. "You've had to deal with assholes your entire life! You've had to deal with people looking at you and thinking: 'He can't do this' or 'He's this way' when it's not true! When they didn't even know! Like your parents, and like Colleen! People have looked down on you all your life and it's fucking stupid that they have! And now that you've shown you can pass medical school and now that you've shown you can do anything any doctor can and more, people still think that way! For absolutely not reason!" Shaun's eyes were beginning to mist over with tears. But it was okay, because so were Lea's. "And you know that that is, Shaun!? It's fucking stupid!" The last two words ended in a sharp yell. "Isn't it!?" she yelled. "Isn't that what you're thinking!?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what!?"

"Yes, it's stupid," he elaborated.

But she wasn't satisfied. "What is!?"

"It's stupid that I'm not respected! It's stupid that I'm just as good as anyone else, but nobody else thinks so!" Gradually, his voice was gaining strength.

"You deserve respect!" she egged. "But even if you don't get it, Shaun, this isn't you." She gestured around them; to the mountain, and to the snow, and to the landscape below. "This isn't you— running away, and just accepting that you can't do anything about it; that's not you. Your parents thought that you couldn't amount to anything, Shaun, and you know what you did? You turned around and you became the best doctor I've ever even heard of! And they don't even know!" She reached up to swipe away a tear that she felt silly for letting escape in the first place. "They don't even know how amazing a doctor you are! Despite what all they said and did." She looked him and up down. "So, are you going to let Glassman make you think you can't do anything, now? Are you just going to take it sitting down, and just prove what he said was right?"

Shaun wilted in uncertainty. She could see his gears turning, and his indecision beginning to take its toll. If their problem was a Rubik's cube, he was twisting it madly, struggling to figure it out. To do anything he could to make the mismatched colors start to line up, and make just the tiniest bit of sense.

"No!" She answered it for him. "You know what, if he thinks he knows you better than you do, then that's his problem! You've known him for years, and you've trusted him, so he should trust you too. If he doesn't— if he doesn't, then fuck him, Shaun!" He cringed. "You don't need him! You don't need anyone in your life that makes you feel like you're useless or helpless. He can't force you to have a therapist. He can't fire you because you don't want one. You're an adult. He literally can't do anything to you if you just say no. He can't stuff you in a car and drag you to an office; he can't ground you to your room!

"So, you know what you have to do? You have to march back into that hospital and tell him: 'You've got to pick which one you want: me, or your weird, entitled superiority over me.' Because he can't have it both ways. He can't make you feel like shit, boss you around, and still be able to say he cares about you. That's not right. Give him that ultimatum, and let him choose which one he thinks is more important. If he doesn't pick to trust you, then you can find another hospital to work at. With your track record by now, you can't possibly have too hard of a time. I'll help you find one, even."

But this only made him even more worried. "What if he doesn't pick me?" he rasped, his voice weakening all over again. It was layered back in that fear and worry. She could see the anxiety of rejection push down on his shoulders.

Her heart tore. She took a deep breath against the sting, and she shook her head. "Then he's an idiot!" Lea blustered. "Then he shouldn't be allowed to even touch a scalpel, because he's way too stupid to be operating on anybody! If you give him that ultimatum, and that's the choice he makes, then you can't be blamed for a single thing, because all of this is solely on him. It's already been on him, but at least this way you'll know where he really stands. He can't keep pushing you! Nobody can push you, and make you feel like you're less than you really are! Because you're amazing, Shaun Murphy! Okay!?"

"You sound angry..."

"Because I am!" she snapped. "I'm angry you don't know that, Shaun! I'm so angry! I'm not leaving this stupid mountain until you get it through your head!" She waved her arms for emphasis. "I want to hear you say it!" she pressed. "I want to hear you say that you're just fine just the way you are, and I want to hear you say that anyone who doesn't think so is stupid, and not worth your time! That you shouldn't even worry about it, or care, because they're just way too stupid to get upset over!"

Shaun looked down at his hands. He seemed to be thinking—wracking his brain for something to say, or something to think. For an aching moment, Lea thought that he wouldn't be able to get it out. But she perked when he suddenly nodded his head once. "I'm fine just the way I am," he announced. "I don't need a therapist. I can take care of myself. Anyone that doesn't agree isn't worth my time."

She beamed. "Because they're stupid!" she tacked on, insistent.

"Because they're stupid," Shaun echoed.

"Louder, Shaun, you have to get it all out!" she shouted. "You've been carrying it around this entire time; you have to let it out, otherwise it's never going to go anywhere else! You've done everything anyone's asked of you! You haven't given them a single reason to think you're not capable of anything they throw at you! Right!?" She waved her arms again. "Am I right, Shaun? Say it!"

"I haven't given them any reason to think I'm not capable!" he agreed, his volume matching hers. His eyes weren't shining with tears anymore; they were shining with conviction. Gleaming with it.

"And you deserve their respect!" she encouraged.

"I deserve their respect!" He clasped his hands together tighter. "I've done everything right; I shouldn't have to prove myself every day!"

"This isn't your fault at all! It's theirs!" she declared. "All you've done from the very beginning is wait, and fight, Shaun! You shouldn't have to do that for everything that you want! You shouldn't have to wait for people to come to their senses! It's not fair! Aren't you tired? Don't you think someone else should do the fighting for once? That maybe Glassman and Melendez have something to prove you, instead of the other way around?"

"Yes," Shaun replied. And when she just stared at him, he repeated it louder. "Yes! I'm…tired of waiting!"

"And you should be!" she snapped. "Things have to start changing! Things have to be different! You deserve for things for be different! So you have to march back into that hospital, and you have to tell them that! You have to tell them that you deserve more than you've been getting, and that you're not going to stay if they don't see that! You haven't let them down once! So why should they keep disappointing you?" She shook her head. "You deserve the same treatment as anyone else! It's not a lot to ask for at all! You're more than someone who can just be pushed around and told what to do! I want to hear you say that you're worth it!"

"I'm worth it…" he murmured. "I'm enough. And they're wrong."

"Louder!" she encouraged, throwing her arms up into the air.

"I'm worth it! And they're wrong!" he shouted, putting more feeling into the words.

"Who is?"

"Everyone!" he burst. His expression was crumbling, now, but it was crumbling in a different kind of way. She could almost see the memories hurting him, raw and fresh. Memories of Colleen and her friends laughing, of his father yelling at him, and hitting him. Of Glassman telling him he wasn't able to take care of himself. Of Melendez dismissing him and his ideas, or not trusting him enough to take charge of a situation. They were all there, and they were all hurting. But she could also see the liberation in his eyes that came from finally being able to yell out against it all. To scream that it was wrong, for maybe the first time in his life. "They're all wrong! They've been wrong! Everyone is wrong!"

"Right! So you go to Glassman and make him decide! You tell him you're an adult, and you're not willing to be shoved around anymore. You're not a piece of clay he can squash and mold into whatever he wants! And Melendez can't, either! You're a grown-ass man, and so is everyone else, so why are you the only one in that entire hospital acting like it!?" He wasn't wincing away from her anymore, even though she was still yelling. Some part of her was warning her that she should probably take it back a notch; but by this point, she wasn't able to. They were past the point of relaxing. Maybe they'd crossed that point the second the crossed the California border.

"And you're not going to take no for an answer," she added, her eyes burning brightly. "If they can't respect you, then you're walking out. They're going to lose the best resident they have, and they're going to regret it sooner or later, and feel horrible. But none of that is going to be your problem. You'll find a new job at a new hospital that will actually appreciate you. We'll do it together, even, if you want; we'll go door to door, or however the heck you apply for residencies; I'll help you do it. We can go together." She tried to picture how that would work, and all that she managed to drum up were sitcom-worthy scenarios of bickering over locations, or just walking up to some random worker at the hospital and shoving resumes at them. That was how you applied to Starbucks; did it correlate to hospitals? It wasn't exactly the most comforting of thoughts, but she would still be willing to try. She would go out with him as many days as it took to get a bite. Why stop now?

"And that's all you're going to say," Lea added. "Just those few sentences. Don't let them argue with you— don't give them a chance to make you upset again. Don't give them the satisfaction. If they try and fight you on anything at all, just turn around and walk away. Drop your residency, or transfer, however you do it. I don't care what it takes." Her voice lost a bit of its fire, and she looked at him steadily, raising her eyebrows a little bit. "You worked hard to get there, Shaun, I know; and residencies are probably difficult as it is, but you shouldn't have to be fighting this hard. You know? It shouldn't be this difficult to just get noticed, when you have everything they could want. A job should never make you this miserable— to the point of running away. I don't care if you're the most important doctor in the most specialized field in the world. There comes a point where you just have to draw the line."

Shaun just stared at her. His eyes were crowded with thought, but he said nothing.

She hesitated. Maybe she shouldn't be speaking in such absolutes. She shouldn't be pushing him. Pushing was what got him into this mess. If pushing him got him to the end of this whole thing, then they had really made no progress at all. The thought occurred to her as she searched his face, and her expression slowly weakened. As it dawned over her that she could be doing exactly what Glassman had been doing, without even knowing it.

She took in a slow breath, and she closed her eyes. She took a tiny step backwards, away from him. He perked in disappointment at the distance. "…Or not," she exhaled. "Shaun…if you really don't want to go back to San Jose, I won't stop you. I won't…yell at you, or try to persuade you. I'll be upset, I'm not gonna lie— I'll be really upset. And I'll miss you. But if you're sure, I'll let you stay behind. I'll go back home by myself. Because I can't stay any longer. You shouldn't have to stay here, either, but if that's what you really want…

"You just have to promise me," she went on, "that if you do stay here, then you still won't let anyone step on you. That you'll be strong, and tough, like I know you can be." When Shaun was quiet, and he seemed to be considering the prospect of actually just leaving San Jose abandoned, her chest rang with pain. But she let it be. She just made a face, tipping her head over to the side. "And you have to promise me you'll call," she added. "Like…every single day. And tell me all about what's going on, and how you're doing. You have to call me enough so that I forget you're gone." This last sentence was softer than all the others, and it lost a bit of its steadiness. She had to clear her throat to make sure that it didn't have the chance to get too noticeable.

Shaun looked down at the ground. Weighing the options.

Her heart was lodged in her throat, looking at her friend and thinking about how life would be without him. Which was weird, because he'd only been in her life for a short amount of time as it was. Only a few months, really. But it had been a fun few months. She hadn't had a friend in the entire apartment complex before Shaun had moved in; he made living there much more tolerable. She'd gone from thinking he was awkward and mean after he took back his batteries, to looking out for him in the hall just in case she could catch him and strike up a conversation. To inviting him over to her apartment and laughing because he hated all the shows she watched on TV. To just having a friend in general.

She'd miss it, if he stayed here in Wyoming. But, just like Glassman couldn't drag him back to his house to force him to meet with a therapist, she couldn't shove him into her car, either. She couldn't lug him back to California just because that was what she wanted. What Shaun wanted was more important. And he was entitled to whatever that was. She crossed her arms over her chest and winced, raising her eyebrows at him and silently begging for a faster answer. Her heart was thrumming way too fast, waiting in anticipation. But then again, she wasn't sure she even wanted to hear the decision . Not if it was to stay behind.

But when he did speak, it wasn't a decision at all. To her surprise, it was a question.

"Do you want me to come back with you?" he asked.

She blanked. She figured the answer to that was fairly obvious. But the way he was looking at her made it perfectly clear that it wasn't. That he needed the audible confirmation. She deflated, sorrow creeping into her eyes. 'He gave up on me.' 'Doctor Melendez will be glad I left.' 'Claire and Jared won't mind.' 'Nobody will miss me.' 'I can't stay anywhere.' 'They don't want to talk to me. There's no point.' 'She said she would never kiss a creepy weirdo like me.'

It hurt when she looked at him, everything he'd said before running through her mind. He was asking because he wasn't even sure she would want him, either. His entire life, he'd never been first. He'd never been directly wanted. He had been first for one person when he was younger, and that person had died. And in the present, the person he thought was putting him first just finished tossing him aside. He was used to disappointment, time after failed time. He was used to people just settling for him. To him, even with the missed calls and texts as evidence against it, everyone would be relieved he was gone, simply because that's just what he'd always known.

It was so engrained in his mind that he couldn't even trust that Lea would be any different.

Her face fell. Her shoulders slackened. For a moment, again, there was only the sound of the wind whistling past them. Because she didn't know how to put her heartache into words, that he would be so easily doubtful, even now. But in the end, she didn't even try to communicate it. She just smiled, and reached out, taking his hand gingerly in her own. She held it gently and put her other hand on top. Not to squeeze, but to reassure. She was glad Shaun didn't yank it back. That he only looked at her and waited, seeming more than a little nervous.

"I do want you to come back," she said, her voice soft and sincere. Making sure to leave absolutely no room for debate, or hesitation. "If you stayed here in Wyoming, Shaun, I would miss you— really, I would, I'm not just saying that. Every single day I would go out in the hall and look down at your door and miss you walking out of it. I would miss everything about you. I'd even be disappointed that you weren't there to wake me up at three in the morning looking for something stupid." She grinned, but it was a sadder kind of smile. She did apply the smallest of pressure to Shaun's hand, before she let it go. "I would miss you, if you didn't come back to California with me," she concluded. "But it is entirely up to you. Everything is entirely up to you. So…this decision is included. No matter what your answer is."

Shaun searched her face. Really looked at her, which was rare for him. "Someone new would move in," he pointed out after a moment. "Someone else would take my apartment. You'd probably get along with them, too."

She was already shaking her head. "Maybe," she reasoned. "But they wouldn't come to my apartment and ask me for their batteries back." She looked at him with affection. "They wouldn't insult my outfits every day like you do. Or demand apples from me." She shrugged one shoulder. "They wouldn't be you," she finished, her words seeming to hang in the air between them. And it was true. Maybe someone new would move in, and maybe she'd get along fine with them. But she wouldn't want them. She wanted Shaun. Fuck anyone who didn't— Melendez, or otherwise. She did.

He was quiet. He looked away from her, to the flurry of snow around them. It was getting colder and colder, and more impossible to ignore, and Lea knew that in about five minutes she'd probably call it and start back, considering they still had a walk ahead of them. If a decision was going to be made – and it had to be made by this point – then it had to be made now. Just as she was about to open her mouth and say this, however, Shaun beat her to the punch. "Okay."

"'Okay?'" she repeated, immediately whirling back to look up at him. "'Okay?' Y-…You want to come back with me?"

"Yes," Shaun answered, and he watched Lea flail her arms out in excitement, lighting up like a Christmas tree as she jumped up and down. "I will talk to Doctor Glassman, and Doctor Melendez. If they don't listen to me, I'll leave Saint Bonaventure. But I won't leave California. I'll stay." The confirmation just made Lea jump up and down all over again. She clapped her gloved hands together, her face nearly splitting, with how big her smile was. "If I can find another residency program to join," he added on, before she got too ecstatic.

"For sure!" she cheered. "It'll work out, Shaun, I promise you! One way or another!" She was delighted. "And I can help you with anything you might need. I can— I can go job-hunting with you, I can help out with things until you get another one, I can tee-pee Glassman and Melendez's house with you! Or we can slash their tires! I did that once, it's super easy, the trick is you only cut three of them, and that way insurance companies don't cover the cost of replacements!" Shaun looked at her oddly, but she was too overjoyed to wear a filter. She hopped around again and grabbed both of his hands, giving them a hard shake. Which only made him stiffen more. "Or we could spread Instant Mashed Potatoes on their front yards and pour water on it— I've always wanted to see if that would work! Like you just get up in the morning and go outside and BAM, you're standing in mashed potatoes, it would be so funny! Their faces would be priceless!"

"We're not doing any of that," Shaun refuted.

"I know, but I can dream," she huffed. She dropped the teasing and smiled big at him. She held onto his hands and bounced them up and down once, as if in affirmation. "I'm so proud of you, Shaun," she pressed. "I'm really, really proud." He smiled at her. He didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. By now, Lea understood perfectly. She giggled and turned, tugging Shaun along with her as she spun in a small circle before starting to hop back the way they'd come. "Let's go, then!" she chirped. "We have a lot of stuff to do, and I'm not going to be any help in getting us back if all my fingers fall off!"

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

He hadn't even asked. But he hadn't had to. Without having him tell her where to go, or where to turn, Lea drove in silence to the junkyard that Shaun had called his home when he was younger. He hadn't needed to express his gratitude and relief audibly; she could see it radiate everywhere else. He was so eager to get out of the car that he was getting out almost before Lea even pulled into park. She followed him out, and together they walked back to the bus in comfortable silence. It was earlier in the morning, around eight, since they were trying to get a head start on things. They both knew that they couldn't stay long. But a final goodbye was in order, and so Shaun was quick to lean over and begin to pry open the doors the second they reached it. Lea hung back and waited, just like she'd done that first morning they'd gotten here.

When suddenly, a voice behind them made them both freeze at the exact same time.

"Shaun."

Lea frowned, and she turned to look towards where the voice had come from, closer to the entrance of the junkyard. Shaun, however, didn't move at all. He was stock-still. Lea's eyes widened a little bit as they landed on the figure standing a few yards away from them. She didn't recognize him, but going by the stiffness that was now up and down Shaun's entire body, she guessed that he had recognized whoever this was just by the sound of their voice. The person was old, and even from where she stood, Lea could see that they were worn and exhausted. Their expression was more than a little strained, and when Shaun didn't turn around alongside Lea, it only seemed to grow more severe.

Lea wasn't about to speak— when she glanced back to Shaun, she saw that his grip on the bus's door had about tripled in force; his expression was steely as he stared inside it. The atmosphere had changed drastically, but it had changed in way that made it clear that she should not interject. That it was beyond her. She took to silence— to being an audience. A cautious one.

The newcomer took a step closer, an unbearable amount of pain beginning to leak into his eyes. "Shaun." Again, they repeated his name, and again, the single syllable yawned with loneliness and desperation. Going by the age of the man in front of her, and the harrowing way he was looking at him, she made the safe assumption that this was Doctor Glassman. It had to be. "Shaun, please. Turn around, so I can talk to you."

Shaun did nothing of the sort. At first. But slowly, robotically, he let his arm fall back down to his side, and he did. He was still silent, but it was a small progression, and Lea was almost inclined to feel sorry for the older doctor, when she saw just how much that tiny gesture seemed to light him up. He smiled, but it was far too broken and fractured to convey any sort of happiness. She wondered if Shaun could tell this too, because he was quick to avert his eyes. Though this made the man's smile decay just slightly, the mere sight of the younger doctor seemed to create a spark of desperate hope and happiness inside of him, and keep it alive. "You're okay…" he murmured, looking him up and down, as if to make sure. "I was so worried, and when you didn't answer your phone— I was worried something terrible had happened to you, or you were hurt, or…"

"I'm fine," Shaun said softly. "I can keep myself safe."

Something akin to a wince came over Glassman's face. He ducked his head a little bit, and when he looked at him again, his voice was rawer. If he had come into this standing upon a sturdy foundation, it was already beginning to crack underneath him. "Shaun…I want to apologize," he started. "I…have spent hours upon hours, thinking of all the things that I did wrong. Or…all the things I should have done differently. And I am so sorry…" Lea watched Shaun, worriedly trying to track his thought process. "I shouldn't have dismissed you the way I did when you said you didn't want a therapist; I should have listened to what you had to say, I should have worked with you more. I shouldn't have let…emotion cloud my judgement, but I did, Shaun— I was just worried about you. I was so worried about you, and I didn't know what else to do, so I thought…forcing you was the only thing I could do."

Shaun was still only listening. Or maybe he wasn't even doing that. It was impossible to tell. Lea crossed her arms and hugged herself, watching the scene unfold and trying to ignore the distinct feeling that she was trespassing. That this was a conversation she should not be witness to. When his words were met by silence, Glassman only grew even more worked up. He continued in a rush now, taking in a sharper inhale before he spoke. "After what happened at the grocery store, Shaun, I just— I've been terrified of losing you." The words were minimal, it seemed, to convey the emotion that was written across his face. But each one was heavy and weighted; they seemed to hang in the air like fifty-pound weights. "And you tried to tell me that you were fine, and you tried to show me you were, too, but I couldn't listen because I was just too scared of that happening anyway.

"And so I did the one thing I thought I could do. I pushed for you to get help, and I shoved for it, and I made you feel like I didn't care about anything else, just because I was trying to— to keep you here, and keep you safe and happy. To give you everything I could. And in doing that one thing, I ended up just pushing you away." He looked at him long and hard. The amount of misery in his eyes could probably fill two swimming pools. The sight of him now made Lea recall the way Shaun had looked in the car. She'd compared him to a sun— giving off waves of sorrow and depression. This man looked exactly the same, now. "I did the one thing I was trying to avoid, Shaun. All of this is my fault. You tried to tell me time and again, and I didn't listen, and even when I saw how much it was upsetting you, all I did was make you even more upset. Melendez even confronted me in my office, and asked if you were alright. I brushed it away like it was nothing. I didn't even see what I was doing, then, and it was staring me in the face."

Shaun's hands clasped tighter together. He was staring hard at the grass between his feet.

His lack of response wasn't helping. Glassman was just getting more desperate. Desperate for him to listen, or understand. It showed in his voice, and it showed in his expression. They were all rehearsed words, she could tell. But she could also tell that he had at least anticipated some reaction to them. "But you're not nothing, Shaun; you mean so much to me. And maybe…maybe that's why I acted the way I did: because I care so much. That was all I was thinking: that I cared so much, and because of that, I knew what was best for you, and if I could do this, then you would be happier and better-off. Even if you didn't want it at first." He had to stop and swallow hard. "I wouldn't ever give up on you, Shaun; I have given up on many things in my life, and I have given up on many people, too, but never for a second would I ever give up on you. And the fact that that's what I made you think after everything I did is something that's kept me awake at night…"

He fell silent, now. Clearly, he wasn't about to go on until Shaun finally responded to him in some way. But when he did, it probably wasn't what Glassman was wanting. "How did you find me?" he asked. "I didn't answer anyone's phone calls."

Lea stiffened, and she looked quickly back to the older man, to find that his eyes had flickered to her as well. Her fingers dug more into her arms, and she waited with the smallest of glowers for him to give her away. If he did, Shaun would certainly never forgive her. She had been worried for him, but she hadn't meant for someone to take the next flight over to Wyoming to confront him about this entire thing— because there wasn't a single doubt in her mind that Claire had told Glassman about their conversation, and passed on his location. In fact, this was exactly what Lea had said shouldn't happen. She'd specifically requested that he be given space to be alone.

Shaun had finally decided to go back to California on his own terms. They'd made a plan, however flimsy. And now it was going up in smoke, right in front of their eyes. If she had known that Glassman would react this way this fast, she most definitely would have refused to tell Claire where they were. That point was moot, though; the fact she had done it at all would be enough for Shaun to step away from her. To decide that he couldn't even trust her, either, when it was clear that at the moment, she was all he had.

She waited for the revelation, hardly breathing. "I looked all over San Jose for you," Glassman started. "When I couldn't find you anywhere there, I figured you might have come here instead. I cleared my morning, and I got a plane ticket to Casper. Just hoping I would find you. And…" He looked mournfully at the bus behind Shaun. "There's not too many other places you would have gone." Lea was stiff, her eyes rounding out just a fraction. He'd lied for her. She wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. But it wasn't about her, right now, anyway. She guessed it didn't really matter.

"I'm…sorry, Shaun, for doing this," he breathed again. "I know…I know that you probably don't want to see me." The amount of pain that was on his face was almost difficult to meet head-on. In the back of her mind, Lea wondered whether someone would wear the same expression of agony if they were being stabbed through the abdomen with a knife. Or, if possible, it wouldn't even begin to measure up. "And you deserve to feel that way," he continued. "You do. I shouldn't have…Shaun, I shouldn't have reacted the way that I did, back at the hospital. I know…"

Again, he had to stop. "I know I'm not your father," he managed, with a large amount of difficulty. "I know, that, Shaun, but…" He trailed away. Lea looked to the ground, too sick to watch anymore. He was saying one thing, but she was sure that even a blind person would be able to see through that statement. "But I've lost someone already…I lost Maddie, and just— that day when I heard you were in the store with that shooting, it just made me think of what it might be like if I lost you too, and I just— I couldn't do that again, Shaun, I can't do that. I didn't want to lose someone again because I wasn't there for them, and so I just thought…I just thought that maybe if I had you get someone who could do that – who could be at your side all the time – then you might feel better, but—" He broke off. He winced and backtracked. "No, no, it wasn't— it wasn't for you. It was for me. I thought doing what I did…would make me feel better. About everything," he amended.

Shaun stared hard at the snow on the ground. Lea wondered if he thought the solution to their problem was buried somewhere underneath. "Did it?" he asked eventually, his words barely audible. It was a simple question at face-value; but the second Lea heard it and it registered, it nearly choked her. She could tell that Glassman's reaction was only stronger to it.

But at least the answer was quick to come. "No." There was a small crunching noise, and the girl turned to realize he'd taken a step forward. "No, Shaun, it didn't. Words…can't even describe how much I regret doing what I did. I just wasn't thinking. Sometimes…when people care a lot about someone, they don't think straight, or they don't look at the big picture and think things through all the way. I just wasn't thinking, and when you tried to tell me that, I wasn't listening, either. All I could think of was Maddie, I—"

"I'm not Maddie." The interruption was soft, but it was firm. His eyes narrowed a little bit with the interjection. That light in them was back again— the stronger, more determined light that Lea had been trying to kindle this entire time. She smiled in a mixture of sympathy and pride when he was about to continue. "I'm me. And…I should be enough for you." She could tell that it was taking a lot of difficulty, to communicate clearly and stay as collected as he was. But so far, he was handling it. He was doing well.

The other stopped short, taken aback. He closed his mouth after a moment, and he swallowed. Lea was caught off-guard by the sheer amount of sorrow that crawled over his face when he looked at Shaun. And how heavy his voice was when he replied. "I know you're not her, Shaun," he managed weakly. In stark contrast against Shaun's voice, his was only getting thicker, and more brittle. "And you are enough for me. You've always been enough. I never meant to make you feel like you weren't. I'm sorry for everything, Shaun, I am. I've been trying to figure out how I should apologize to you. But I could never find the words, because I knew that none of them would be enough."

Shaun said nothing, this time.

Glassman closed his eyes, and took a deeper breath. "Please come back to San Jose, Shaun," he pleaded. "Come back home. I cleared everything up at work— I made sure that nobody could possibly blame you for a mess that I created. I made sure they all knew that none of it was your fault." He waited for a response, but he was given none. "Melendez needs you back on the team. You and Jared— he was…fired over something else, there's only Claire right now, and she's having a difficult time." Shaun did look up at this. Not to Glassman, but at least his eyes rose. "Saint Bonaventure needs you back, Shaun. Melendez needs you back. And…and I do, too," he added, quieter. "I would like to have the chance to make this up to you."

Shaun turned, and Lea did as well, when she realized he was looking over to her. Their eyes met, and she was surprised to see that for once she could read his expression perfectly. Without a word, he was asking her what she should do. Ironic, that the first time she was able to piece him apart so clearly, was the first time she was adamant on not interfering. She stared at him for a long and hard moment, before the side of her mouth tugged back in an 'It's up to you' gesture. She shook her head once.

Glassman watched the silent exchange closely.

Eventually Shaun seemed to come to his own conclusion. Lea continued to watch him just as carefully when he turned back to face the older man. He looked daunted, and a little unsure. But he started forward, all the same. "I want to make my own decisions. I'm an adult. If I want a therapist, I will find one myself; but I don't want one." Thankfully Glassman had the wits about him to keep silent, and wait out what he had to say this time. "Bobby told me that I shouldn't let anyone tell me what I can and can't do. And Lea told me that my feelings are always valid." He glanced at her and she took the moment to give him an encouraging smile. "She also told me…that I'm enough. And that I shouldn't have to keep waiting for people to understand that. That it's not fair."

Glassman's gaze was boring a hole through her, she could tell. Her stomach twisted into a nervous knot, but she took in a slow breath to quell her nerves, and she even lifted her chin up a little bit, as if to dare him to say anything against her. She wasn't wrong. Granted, the anger and irritation she'd held for him up until this point had lessened just the smallest bit, now that she saw him and how upset he was. How beaten-down and distressed. But her stance hadn't changed. He'd still done what he did. Her comfort to Shaun still stood. She wasn't about to take it back.

Glassman's eyes flashed when they locked gazes, but he said nothing.

Shaun was going on— likely in a rush, to prevent himself from being interrupted. "I don't want to wait anymore, for something I should already have. I want respect, because I deserve it now. I graduated medical school. I've taken care of myself for a long time. I shouldn't be treated differently, or forced to do things I don't want to do." Lea was nodding slowly, a silent encouragement for him to keep going. "I…haven't been able to trust a lot of people. I trusted you. And you let me down." Despite the fact her heart ripped at his words, Lea felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

'You let me down.'

You. He was putting blame somewhere other than on his own shoulders, now.

It was a world of progress, in those four little words.

"I don't have to be at Saint Bonaventure." Aaron stiffened when Shaun announced this. "There are other hospitals that offer surgical residencies. I can try and find one that will take me, if you won't let me decide what's best for myself. I don't want to leave, but I will. If I have to." He paused, and shifted his weight from foot to foot. There was a long stretch of nothing, before he asked a little slower: "Do I have to do that?"

"No, Shaun," Glassman rushed, nearly tripping over his words in the effort to get them out in enough time. "No. You don't have to leave Saint Bonaventure because of this. You've done nothing but succeed with your work and what you've been doing— you've been nothing but an asset to the hospital. That's why I've been so proud of you, Shaun; I've been proud of you this entire time." The younger hunched forward, his eyes flashing; he didn't want the hear the sentiment.

"Shaun, if I could turn the clock back to this time next week and change everything, I would," Glassman vowed. "Maybe I still would have encouraged you to seek a therapist, because it's nothing to be ashamed of to have, and it would do any person a lot of good to be able to talk to someone just when they wanted to. But I would have made it more of a conversation; I wouldn't have made it so one-sided. I would have listened to what you had to say more, rather than just sweep you under the rug. I would have stopped and seen how upset it was making you, and I would have realized I was pushing you too much. I would never have driven you away." This final sentence was much more subdued.

Shaun was tight-lipped. His stare was slowly becoming just as pained as Glassman's. Lea could see that telltale gleam again. The shine in his eyes that brought a distinct sting to her own. She ducked her head and looked away. Which was good, because the desperate hope that was in his voice when he spoke next nearly sliced her heart in half.

"Will it be different?" he dared to ask.

She could hear it all in every syllable. She could imagine a little boy, too young and small to understand how awful the world could be, thrown aside by a blow from his own father's hand. The same little boy curled up on a thin mattress by his brother, in a hollowed-out shell of a bus, and then standing in the middle of it, completely alone and unsure of where to go. A boy made fun of by people he thought were his friends, struggling to make sense of what they had against him when they didn't even know him. An older version of that boy, juggling textbooks of anatomy and microbiology and human development and nutrition and more, all stacked up so that it reached under his chin. Rushing through hallways and sitting in classes, trying to raise his hand to answer questions and being ignored every single time. Sitting on the stage at graduation and ignoring the stares that were sent his way, or the murmuring of voices behind him.

That same boy older still, having clawed and fought his way through all that hell and discrimination. To finally achieve his lifelong dream of landing a job at a hospital as a surgeon…only to find that nothing had changed. That he was still dismissed at every turn. That he was still overlooked and talked down to. That even the person he never thought would treat him in that same way, suddenly flipped and shoved him down just like everyone else. It was all there, written like a novel, for anyone to thumb through and read. Lea's eyes flickered to Glassman, and she could tell that he saw it just as much as she did.

"Yes, Shaun," Glassman reassured. "It will all be different; I give you my word."

"How much is that worth?" he asked.

He looked like Shaun may as well hit him a second time, with all his reaction said. He did a small double-take, and pressed his lips together tightly. His expression welled in pain, and it took long and painful moment to gather himself together enough to speak. "It…might not be worth anything to you, right now, Shaun," he rasped eventually. "And I…I wouldn't blame you if that was the case. But…I do mean it. We have a lot more to talk about…a lot more to fix…but I do promise you that I will make sure that things will be different. In a lot of ways."

Shaun seemed to take this reassurance and piece it apart, to look over every inch of it. To try and see whether or not there was actually anything to it. Or if it was just as empty as any other promise he must have been given before this.

Glassman ducked his head. He flinched; an unbearable amount of pain came over his expression, like he'd been freshly stabbed. And when he looked up again to the young man, his eyes were brimming over with water. "I've said all I can," he said, and his voice was choked thick with defeat. "There's nothing else I can say to you, to make up for what I've done. This entire thing…I could have actually helped you instead of just…and now…there's just nothing else I can do. I don't want you to leave. Shaun. If you leave, I don't…" He stopped and took in a deep and punctured breath. He shook his head once. "You have every right to do whatever you want, Shaun," he breathed, with a large amount of difficulty. "I know that now. But I just…" He grimaced. "Shaun, can you look at me?" he requested again.

Shaun hesitated. But he complied, and turned to meet his gaze again.

Glassman only seemed to find even more pain, in his stare. But he held it. In the back of her mind, Lea wondered if half of his drive to do so just came from the fear that this would be the very last time he would be able to. "I was stupid," he confessed. "I was stupid, and I wasn't thinking clearly. I hurt you, and I drove you away, and I take full responsibility for everything that happened. I want the chance to make it right— not because I think I deserve it, but because I know that you do. I want you to come back, Shaun. I want you to be happy…I want to be able to see you happy, to see you succeed, and who knows— maybe if I hadn't done anything at all, I would have been able to see that."

He took in a slow breath, and this next part came with more of a struggle. "I've known you for eleven years, Shaun…I've seen you learn and grow, and I should have seen past my own nose; I should have known that you would have been just fine going forward. I just wanted what's best for you, and I wanted it so badly that nothing else mattered. Not even you, and what you thought." He cringed. "I just wanted someone to be there for you. I just wanted to be there for you…because I wasn't there for Maddie. I…wanted to get it right, this time. Because…"

Shaun hadn't looked away yet. He wasn't even blinking.

Glassman choked back a swallow. "Shaun, you told me before that you don't want love," he broached. Lea wilted, and glanced at her friend with a little bit of confusion. Shaun still didn't react, though. "And you have your reasons for that, and maybe this is one of them: that it makes…people ridiculous and confused and idiotic, but that's just my point."

He looked at him despairingly, quiet for a few long heartbeats. He gestured lamely with his hands, in a kind of 'What are you going to do?' motion. "I love you, Shaun," he murmured.

Shaun still didn't react. He sobered, and Lea could see confusion come over his face like clouds rolling in right before it rained. The silence now was uncomfortable and weighted. From Glassman's side, it was filled with tension, and saturated with regret. From Shaun's…Lea couldn't possibly begin to tell. Eventually, he found something to say. His question was quiet. "Why do you love me?" He didn't sound angry, or bitter. He sounded genuinely puzzled. Lost. Again, Lea cringed when she thought of the younger version of him, and how confused he must have been when his father abused him. Trying to line up where love ended and where it began; why it mattered and why it didn't. She could see him doing the same thing now.

Glassman weakened. "How can I not?" he rasped, the words barely getting out.

Just like yesterday, the only noise became the wind that was buffeting them from side to side.

The older doctor scrounged together the courage to continue. But he was picking his words as carefully as someone might pick their way across the floor, if they'd just dropped a glass vase. "And I think that scares me," he murmured. "I think that's why this whole thing has been such a mess. Because the last person that I loved…it wasn't enough. I wanted to do everything I could to get it right this time, and make sure that it wouldn't happen again. I wanted to be enough for you." He shook his head. "But I let you down; you're right. I…" He exhaled heavily, and glanced at him again, though he wasn't able to do so for very long. "I understand that I can't make you do anything, Shaun. That I can't…order you around. So…I understand that…I can't force you to come back with me."

Shaun shuffled his feet, and he dipped his head to the side. "You shouldn't say that," he objected. When Glassman only looked at him, he repeated the tiny motion. "That you're not enough. I thought that too. Lea told me it wasn't true." His lips pressed more together. "It's not true for you, either. You are enough," he attempted. "You just don't listen. And you were being stubborn."

"I was," he accepted. "And I'm sorry, Shaun. Words can't describe how sorry I am. But please…come home. We can make it right again."

This next silence was nearly a full minute long. Shaun turned back to look over his shoulder, to the bus that was behind them, still unopened. Glassman kept his eyes on him, waiting. The young man turned to Lea, and he tried once more to garner some kind of answer from her. She only offered him a bracing smile, and a small shrug of her shoulders. "It's your decision, Shaun," she informed. He'd wanted to make his own. And even though her and Glassman probably both wanted to shake him and yell at him to come home, they were both resigned to this fact. They were giving him autonomy. "It's completely up to you."

Shaun took this in. He turned, and he looked back at Glassman, his expression slowly becoming agonized as he looked at the man he had run to as a fourteen-year-old boy, with nowhere else to turn. Who he'd stayed with and had been hired under. Who he'd trusted, and maybe even loved himself, even if he wasn't able to show it or maybe even recognize it. He looked at him and thought, and Lea and Glassman both waited with bated breath for what he would reply with.

For what he would decide for himself. On his own accord.

It felt like forever, before he opened his mouth to speak.

(~**~) (~**~) (~**~) (~**~)

"It's a pretty good crowd, for a Saturday. And the manager gives me a smile. 'Cause he knows that it's me, they've been comin' to see…to forget about life for a while." Holding a microphone in one hand, Lea was practically yelling into it. Projection was important, after all, but she could probably also blame it on the fact that she'd had about three glasses of wine so far tonight. She turned and flashed a grin over her shoulder, to where Claire was standing just a few feet to the left of her. She was shredding the guitar; ever since she'd upped the ante from 'hard' to 'expert' she was intently focused. But when she caught Lea's glance over in her direction, her eyes flickered over to her and she cracked a grin.

Jared was stationed at the drums, and every time Lea looked over at him, he was doing something ridiculous with the sticks like twirling them mid-tap, or throwing them so that they switched hands. He was a show-off, that way. But it was funny to watch, especially when he dropped them. Which he'd done six times, so far. They'd put in Rock Band about two hours ago, and they were still going hard. Everyone else had taken instruments, but Lea was just fine with singing. Only because she was absolutely fantastic at it; she could go on America's Got Talent, win the hearts of every single person in the country, and win a million dollars, easy. Right now, though, she was just content with winning the hearts of everyone at this party.

"And the piano sounds like a carnival! And the microphone smells like a beer! And they sit at the bar, and put bread in my jar, and say: 'Man, what are you doin' here?'" Her other arm was outstretched, draped over the shoulders of the other member of the band, who was doubling as her duet partner. Close together, they swayed back and forth— mostly, Lea was dragging him along with her, just like she'd dragged him to sing in the first place. He hadn't wanted to play the game at all, but they could only have two party poopers, and Glassman was currently sitting at the bar and 'being the audience' so the position was filled.

She turned and grinned widely at Shaun, her giggle fit only worsening when she saw the smile that was already on his face. He was singing pretty off-key, but so was she, so they made the perfect duo. "Oh, la la la, di di da!" they sang together, Lea much louder than Shaun. "La la, di da da da, dum!" She hopped up and down, tugging him even closer and nearly knocking him right off of his feet. "Sing us a song, you're the piano man! Sing us a song, tonight!" She held the microphone out between them, so that they could both be heard, and between the two of them, they were probably getting at least a passing grade. Shaun would complain if it wasn't perfect, like he'd done for the past five songs, but she would ignore him, like she'd also done for the past five songs. "Well we're all in the mood for a melody!" they harmonized. "And you've got us feelin' alright!"

The harmonica solo kicked in and she knew their job of being the best singers this world had ever experienced was over, so Lea turned and tossed the microphone back to land hopefully somewhere on the couch. And, Claire and Jared taking them the rest of the way through the song, Lea laughed and grabbed hold of Shaun's hands, forcing him to follow her lead in a tiny waltz. They didn't have much room to do so. But it didn't matter. Lea was still giggling, and she swung them around as close to the beat of the music as she could. And Shaun was grinning from ear-to-ear as well, stumbling a little bit and trying to keep up. They skipped and hopped, until the music wound down, and Lea finished with a flourishing twirl, a little winded by the end. Her cheeks were flushed in a mix of exertion and wine, and she laughed when Shaun looked just as scrambled as she felt.

Claire raised her hands up in a cheer, officially done struggling through 'expert' mode. The only reason she'd levelled up in the first place was because Jared had said that she couldn't handle it. And sure enough, when the results came up, the guitarist was looking at a pretty solid sixty-seven percent. But obviously Claire thought it was going to be much worse, because she jumped up and down and yelled: "Ha! That's technically passing! Eat your heart out, drummer boy!"

"Excuse me!" Jared shouted. With one drum stick, he gestured to the television. "I got a ninety-four percent! You eat your heart out; I played circles around you!"

Lea surveyed the results, and her eyes flew wide. Before now, some part of her hadn't yet realized she was still holding Shaun's hands, and he was still holding to hers. But she definitely registered it now, because she proceeded to hold them with about ten times as much pressure, and she waved them all around, Shaun's arms turning into spaghetti. "Oh my God! Everyone stop the freakin' presses!" she all but screamed. "Shaun, look! We got a one hundred percent!" She squealed, turning in a fast circle and forcing Shaun to do the same. "We got a one hundred! No way! We got a perfect score! Who's the best now, suckers!?"

Shaun blinked rapidly, having to recover from being shaken and pulled around before he could look at the television. His eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head to the side, looking more befuddled than proud. "How?" he demanded.

"Yeah, how in the world did that happen!?" Jared demanded, standing up now. "I barely missed a single note, how could you two have beaten me!?"

"Looks like ya missed more than a single note, my dude!" Lea chirped. She waved her hands again, and again, Shaun's arms were putty. "Read it and weep! Shaun and I are the MVPs! Go get the plates, because you just got served!"

Jared shot her a playful look. "Were you on easy?" he demanded, looking back to the screen. "You were on easy, weren't you?"

"Life isn't easy, Jared!" Lea snapped. She turned and grabbed her controller again, thumbing away before he could actually find out. She wasn't sure herself, really, but given that they'd gotten such a high score, she wouldn't be surprised. She let go of Shaun's hands in favor for the remote, and he clasped them together in front of him the second they were released. His eyes flickered down to them, and then back to her. "Let's get a new song going!" she demanded. "Shaun and I are on fire!"

"Where's our bass player?" Claire asked, looking back to where he'd left right before they'd started this one. She raised her voice, to help it travel over to the bar some ways away. "Jessica!" she shouted, and the blonde looked up immediately. She was sitting beside Glassman— they'd been, talking idly over something that was too quiet to make out. But whatever they'd been talking about, it must not have been to interesting. Following Claire's gaze, Lea couldn't help but notice how Glassman hadn't even been looking at Jessica. Instead, she noticed that his eyes were trained on Shaun instead. They were soft; he wasn't even trying to hide the affection. "Jessica, tell your fiancé to get his butt out here!" Claire shouted. "Our band is broken up!"

Jessica just offered a smile at first. Lea wasn't too sure about the whole dynamic with her and Neil; as far as she was concerned, it wasn't her business. She knew it was something like Jessica didn't want kids and he did. Typical relationship problems. Going by tonight, it looked like they got along just fine. Of course, it could just be a front. She'd known plenty of couples – mostly parents – that tried to stick out their relationships even when there were issues, and she kind of got the vibe it could be more of something like that. That they were kind of in a rocky spot. She wasn't an expert or anything, and she hadn't had a boyfriend herself in ages, but it was what she was picking up. They seemed happy enough, but there was something off. A remnant that they were still sorting stuff out.

Which was fine.

They were all still sorting a lot out, in their own ways. It was a process.

"I'll go and find him," Jessica offered, turning and hopping off her chair. "He went to make a call; he's probably just wrapping it up."

When she turned and headed after where her fiancé had vanished, Claire took off her guitar, and Jared stepped away from the drum set. It was an unspoken agreement that they were going to take the moment to actually stop and breathe until she found wherever the heck Melendez had flounced off to. They hadn't taken a break for the entire two hours; they were pretty deserving, at this point. Lea led the way to the bar where she'd left her glass, and the trio of residents followed. Her smile was a little shier when she neared Glassman, but all the same, she tried to offer conversation. "How's the show looking from over here?" she asked.

It was pretty awkward, to say the least. First impressions were the most prominent thing in a relationship, and his first impression of her had been that, on a sheer whim and nothing more, she had taken Shaun three states away. Seventeen hours and nine minutes' travel, she had hidden out there with him as if they'd robbed a bank, refusing to answer any calls or efforts of communication. Not to mention she'd kind of just stood there and watched the whole thing play out when he'd gone over there to find him— he probably wished that conversation had been more of a private one.

And her first impression of him had been that he was a control freak that wouldn't listen to Shaun. That he'd had no regard for her friend's feelings and that he'd driven him away from the entire city of San Jose. Between the two of them, she wasn't sure whose first impression was worst, if she was being honest. They were both pretty terrible. And though neither of them had ever been anything but cordial and nice to the other since that day they'd finally met, the tension was still there. More than they'd like to admit, probably.

She was relieved when Glassman smiled at her. "Oh, it's fantastic," he replied. "I feel like I should have to pay to see this kind of talent."

She grinned and lifted up her glass, to take another drink. Claire had a can of Pepsi, and Jared was drinking Mountain Dew. Shaun had a glass of water. She felt a little odd, being the only person at the party that was actually drinking, but at the same time, she knew the reason they were all avoiding the alcohol, despite the fact that they might want to have some. Except for Shaun, of course; he just didn't want any to begin with.

Claire looked at Lea with a smile, and she drummed her hands on the bar's top. "So, Lea!" she chirped. "What's your resolution for this year?"

Lea frowned, and swallowed. She looked down at her phone and checked the time. "Uh, I have got two and a half hours to figure one out," she snickered. She pursed her lips and mulled over the idea. "Let's see…I should probably eat less Ramen noodles, if nothing else. I think my body is starting to shut down. And I don't think there's a…Ramen noodle surgery you can have to fix that. But you guys would be more of the experts on that kind of stuff." She giggled, and asked: "What about you? What are you wanting to do with this brand-new year?"

Claire blew out her cheeks. "Oof. Uh. I'm going to try and be a better resident," she announced. "I want to pick up some of the slack I've had recently." Her serious tone shifted a bit when she threw a snide look in Jared's direction. "Better watch out," she hummed. "I'm going straight for the top."

"Are you now?" Jared asked, smirking as he took a swig of his soda. He made a face when it stung a bit on its way down. "I'm going to have my resolution be to not get fired. Again," he announced, and a bit of guilt came into Claire's expression with this. But he offered her a teasing grin, to show that there were no hard feelings. "You have no idea how depressing it was to apply to Target for the holidays, I felt like I was walking into my own red-and-khaki coffin. Although…I won't lie, I don't regret what I did at all, no matter what I told HR." He stopped short at this, halfway through another sip. He looked at Glassman over the rim of his can, and he awkwardly lowered it. "Of course, I did just say that in front of the president…" he hissed.

"The president didn't hear," he reassured, with a tiny wink. Jared cracked a grin. From what Lea knew about that whole part, it was a combined effort of Melendez and Glassman to get him his position at the hospital back. And Claire, of course, had helped push and shove for the residency to be reinstated. Which was just as good; he didn't deserve to get fired in the first place, in her opinion. It sounded like the night of December fourth had just been a very off day for their hospital, and it should probably have just been tossed out into the recycling bin before it could even play itself out. It probably would have saved a ton of trouble.

Lea turned and hit the bar a couple times with her free hand. "Shaun!" she cheered, and he looked up from his cup with a jolt of alarm. She saw his small stiffen, and she winced. She tried to ignore the way her chest tightened at his sharp reaction. She turned much gentler, instead. "What's your resolution?" she prompted. "It can't be scoring a one-hundred percent on Piano Man, because we just did that, so I'm sorry to burst your bubble. Hopefully it doesn't completely ruin your 2018."

He glanced back at the television, his nose wrinkling. She could probably have asked him to name a million things he could have possibly wanted, and nowhere on that list would Piano Man ever even make an appearance. He turned back front, and to her delight, he lit up. "I'm going to the Super Bowl!" he declared, and he might as well have said he won a million dollars. Jared grinned, and so did Claire. It had been more than clear this entire night that the two were glad to have Shaun back. Lea was inclined to think that Shaun was just as happy to have them back, as well.

"No way!" she beamed. "That's awesome! That's really cool, I've never been to a Super Bowl. I've never been to anything sports-related my entire life, actually, so you've got me beat there." She laughed and shook her head. "But no, that's really cool! When is it?"

"February fourth," he informed eagerly. "We got our tickets." She straightened at this, and Shaun turned to smile at Glassman. His grin was nothing compared to the one that was on the older man's face, though. Just at the mere glance, Aaron looked over the moon. "We're going together. It'll be fun." There was no regret in Shaun's face when he looked at Glassman. No bitterness, and no remorse. Lea had asked him one night whether or not they'd sorted everything out, and Shaun had reassured her that they had. He didn't tell her many details, but she had watched his apartment and she hadn't seen another unfamiliar face go in or out. She hadn't heard any meltdowns. In fact, Shaun seemed the happiest he'd ever been. Whatever they must have spoken about upon his return to Saint Bonaventure, it must have done the trick. Which was good.

"That's great, Shaun," she gushed. "You'll have to send me a selfie from the fif—" But that was all she could manage to get out, before Jessica and Melendez suddenly rushed back into the room.

Melendez didn't look any different. But Jessica looked concerned, and the smallest bit frazzled, and Lea put down her drink, already knowing where it was going. Sure enough, Melendez's eyes zeroed in on the three residents the moment he crossed the threshold. "Twelve car pile-up," he reported, already making for his jacket on the couch. He'd hosted the party, and this was probably the main reason. He was just a hop-skip-and-jump away from Saint Bonaventure. "They need more hands; sorry to break into your New Year festivities."

"No need to be sorry at all!" Jared's eyes were gleaming as he leapt away from the bar. He rushed to get his own jacket, and catch up with his boss. "What better way to bring in the New Year?"

Claire smirked and hopped after. "Christmas Eve at Target," she proposed.

He threw her a look. "Some kid probably would have kicked me in the jingle bells for the last Nintendo Switch." This made Claire crack up. Melendez even cracked a smile; he was watching them rush to his side with a certain level of relief. Or maybe it was even affection, if Lea could stretch that far. However, getting his other arm through the sleeve, he perked and looked around Claire, his eyes flashing.

"Murphy!" he called. Shaun was still standing with Glassman; they'd been talking about something, but too low for Lea to hear, even with her proximity. But at his name, the young man turned. "Are you coming?" his boss demanded. "Or do I have to make do with two residents instead of three?" Shaun blinked, and he hopped into motion. Glassman watched with a small smile as he looped back over to the team, making their ranks complete. He fetched his coat as well, where it had been buried underneath everyone else's. Melendez watched him briefly, before he turned to Jessica. "You should stay here," he said, with a glance in Lea's direction. She was still awkwardly sitting at the bar. "I'll call you if we need you."

She hesitated, but nodded once. "Yeah," she murmured. "Okay." She offered him a tiny smile, and reached up to run her hand gently down the side of his arm. Though the gesture didn't come without a trace of uncertainty. "Good luck." Melendez nodded and smiled at her, leaning over and planting a tiny peck on her cheek. Glassman had risen with Shaun, apparently deciding he may as well join the party. Lea observed in silence as Jessica abandoned the group and walked back over to sit with her again.

Shaun was already rattling on as Melendez rushed to fetch his keys. "Car accidents usually cause 3,287 deaths a day— the most common injuries from them are whiplash, broken bones, chest and abdominal injuries, traumatic brain injuries, or spinal injuries that can lead to paralysis."

"Hopefully that number hasn't been reached yet today," Glassman offered, glancing at him. "And if it has, let's not help it get any higher."

"Yes," Shaun agreed, and Glassman smiled.

Lea stayed still a moment, just watching them start to head out. They were in a hurry, considering they were on the clock now, and time was most likely of the essence. However, at the last moment, she sprang up from her stool and rushed over towards where Glassman and Shaun were starting to bring up the rear of the party. "Shaun, wait!" Again, he jumped at her yell. But he turned nevertheless; so did Glassman. Lea's eyes flickered to the older man for a brief moment, before she came to a stop in front of her friend.

She offered him a smile, searching his face to find with fervent relief that there was no more sorrow there, or anxiety. Or doubt, or worry. That the face she'd looked at during their entire stay in Wyoming seemed to be a distant memory, if not just a figment of her own imagination. He looked happy. Excited. Back to doing what he loved, and what he was good at. And treated with the respect he should have been given from the very beginning. His eyes were practically shining, he was so ecstatic to leave, and Lea knew that she couldn't keep him for too long. But she also couldn't let him leave without saying goodbye.

She grinned, her expression melting with affection and a certain amount of reprieve. "Good luck," she wished, subconsciously repeating the same sentiment that Jessica had extended to Neil. "Have fun, I guess— is that right to say? Or is it awful?" She heard Melendez calling for him, telling him and Aaron to hurry up. So, without warning, she rushed out and wrapped her arms around Shaun in a tight hug. "Happy New Year!" she said. "If you don't come back before the ball drops, I still want to the be the first one to tell you." She was about to pull away, knowing that Shaun wouldn't exactly prefer it if she lingered there squeezing him.

But she froze when she felt his arms wrap around her, too. Her eyes widened a little bit at the returned gesture. It was the first time he'd actively hugged her back; in Wyoming he had tolerated her embraces, and he'd even turned into them a little bit whenever he was especially distraught. But he'd never held her close, like he was doing now. And he'd never done anything of the sort when he was in his right mind. So, she went a little blank with shock when his arms circled around her waist and she felt his chin rest down on the top of her head.

She softened even more, and let her head lean against his shoulder. "I hope this year will be better for you, Shaun Murphy," she whispered, much softer this time.

"It will be," he assured her.

She smiled at his confidence.

Glassman let them stay together for a moment, but it was all he was able to allow. They had to get going, and he leaned over to put his hand on Shaun's shoulder with a little bit of regret. "Shaun, we've got to hurry," he reminded gently. Shaun roused, letting go of Lea as he looked back Aaron. He gave a small nod, and turned on his heel. Aaron's eyes flashed back to her. It was difficult to judge just what it was exactly that he was thinking. But after a moment he offered her a smile— a genuine one, and a grateful one. She was quick to return it.

Lea watched as the pair retreated together and rushed after Melendez. She heard the group's footsteps fading away. Heard the slam of another door, and though she wasn't able to hear it from here, she could imagine the sound of a car engine revving to life. Maybe Shaun was still talking about all the possibilities they'd get in terms of injuries. Maybe he was listing all the surgeries they could have waiting for them at the hospital. Maybe he wasn't saying anything at all.

All Lea knew for sure was that when they reached the hospital, he would be just as much a part of that team as Claire and Jared were. That Melendez would listen to him, and be thankful for his work and his effort. That nobody would look at him oddly, or mumble behind his back, like so many people before had done to him. Nobody would be pressuring him to get extra help that he didn't need. Nobody would second-guess his instincts, or his abilities. Nobody would tell him he wasn't enough.

No.

Lea knew that, whether in terms of the residential team, or just the hospital in general, Shaun would belong.

And that the fact would never be questioned again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [terms and conditions](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13511301) by [justjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justjoy/pseuds/justjoy)




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